In Perfect Trust
by WhiteLadyDragon
Summary: A rookie journalist gets the chance to interview a prodigy with the power to communicate with spirits. What happens when each begins to realize the other's connection to a certain late detective? A collaboration. Co-authored by smearedliner.
1. 00: 1

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). **

**Smearedliner and I are writing a collaboration fanfic based loosely off of "Story of the Century"! This is only the first part; more to come soon! Enjoy the fruits of our labor! **

_**IN PERFECT TRUST**_

_**00-1**_

_1310…1311…1312…1313. _

_This is it. _

Erin stopped to take several breaths to still her nerves, inhaling deeply through her nostrils, exhaling through her mouth in puffs just as quiet and deep. It seemed that no matter who she was meeting with, she would almost always catch the pre-interview jitters, turning into a walking ball of nerves just minutes before the introduction. Such was a natural feeling for every new journalist, particularly one who was a recovering foot-in-the-mouth addict.

But even before then, Erin had always been a high-strung girl. Her shoulders dropped.

_Relax, Blogger. Loosen up and smile. Loosen up and smile. No one will open up to someone who looks like they've got hemorrhoids._

Wiping the sweat condensing on her palm on the thigh of her slacks, she pulled up her slacks over her waist, pulled on the hem of her blouse to get out any unsightly wrinkles, and adjusted her hat. She must've spent at least two minutes grooming herself before finally raising her fist to rap on the door…only for the door to creak open before her knuckles could even connect with its polished surface.

Erin let out the tiniest yelp against her will. Her clutch on the notepad tucked in the perspiring pit of her arm clenched.

The door opened to reveal a young, petite girl—younger than even Erin, it seemed—with straight, blonde hair cascading down her back. Acey of Spades smiled warmly in greeting before she stepped back to let her in. "Erin Blogger? Please, do come in."

When Acey placed a hand on the door frame, several gruesome scars adorning her arms nearly all the way up to her shoulders, as well a few on her collarbone, caught in the overhead light of her hotel room. Apart from that, she somehow reminded Erin of her pop star friend Misa Amane, but more contemplative and minus the pigtails and Gothic Lolita attire. And this girl wasn't Japanese, of course.

_H-how did she know my name before I introduced myself? And…what're all those scars on her arms, _Erin wondered, fighting all the while not to stare at them for too long, and to keep her twitching lips curled into a smile. Was she looking at yet another young mad genius? She shivered at the thought, praying to the gods of journalism that the girl hadn't seen how jumpy she was already making her.

For some reason, the Shinigami Eyes crossed her mind for but a moment, though her gait became more cautious.

After closing the door behind Erin, Acey motioned to the one who would be interviewing her to sit next to her on the couch. After solving a serial murder that had gone unsolved for the past four years by communicating with one of the victims while she'd been at the bookstore, Acey had agreed to do one interview and _ONE_ interview _ONLY_, after being hounded for days on end by reporters.

Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Acey glanced down at the floor. A flicker of soft sadness clouded her deep hazel eyes for a moment.

_Would you be proud of me, L, _Acey thought, tears threatening to well in eyes.

"H-hey. Are you okay?" Erin managed to squeak, unsure if she had been heard.

Acey reached over to scratch her black cat Wicked behind his ears to comfort herself, successfully making the sadness pass. "Y-yes, I'm fine, thanks," She said, nodding once weakly as she twisted the plain sterling silver band, a promise ring she'd received from Near, around and around her ring finger a few times. Acey licked her dry lips. "I was just thinking about my…"

She trailed off, pausing as if the next words were very hard for her to say.

"…late mentor."

_Late mentor…?_

For some inexplicable reason, Erin's mind conjured the faces of Watari and L within it when hearing those words, as if having received a jumpstart to her memory. She could see them behind her eyelids when she blinked, and she gulped softly to herself.

Acey turned to look at Erin, all traces of sadness gone from her eyes. "Jaime, my guardian, says he is pleased to meet you as well," Acey said, reaching over to touch Erin's hand to make the teenage boy bowing visible to her, hoping she wouldn't give the journalist a fright. "Would you like something to drink?"

It was strange: Erin had seen far worse than this scenario, so she'd assumed that nothing could scare her out of her gourd anymore. She was wrong. Erin had planted the seat of her pants to the carpet, her notepad skimming some ten inches away. Her pointer finger took a will of its own as it trembled in the direction of the figure before her, while her other hand clutched her hat over her head. "Wh-who's _that? _Where'd _he _come from?"

For shame! Her first words to her interviewee, and that was all she had to say? Had she not almost had a heart attack, the shame would've affected her much more.

Acey, who had to keep her hand on Erin's to keep Jaime visible to her eyes, was yanked down with Erin onto one knee. She found the journalist's reaction _very_ amusing. Of all the countless reactions to Acey's powers, Erin's was by far her favorite. It reminded her of how L had reacted when he'd heard the word _"shinigami"_ and a hint of their existence in the same breath.

Jaime, however, thought Erin's reaction was quite rude. He didn't appreciate being pointed at like he was some two headed cat with eight legs at the circus. He narrowed his eyes at Erin in disgust.

"Lady Acey knew your name ahead of time because I checked up on you thoroughly. The serial killer she recently put behind bars no doubt has a lot of followers who are very, very pissed off at her. I had to be sure you weren't an assassin under the guise of a journalist sent to kill her," Jaime explained, walking towards Erin with his arms crossed over his chest. Once he was in front of her, he slapped her finger away. "I don't appreciate being pointed at like I'm the featured act in a freak show," he spat coldly.

"Jaime!" Acey scolded, shooting Erin an apologetic look.

"Sorry, m'lady," Jaime mumbled, making it clear that he had no intention of apologizing to Erin.

"I'm sorry about him," Acey said as she helped Erin to her feet. "And I apologize as well for giving you a fright. I'm a medium. I was born with the ability to see and communicate with ghosts."

Erin withdrew her finger to nurse the nipping sensation of ice-water out of it—the result of a ghost's touch, she assumed—by twisting warmth back into it through her other fingers, as she scrambled to find something intelligent to say in response. The words kept rotting off of her tongue as she found herself making a noise that sounded like a cross between a whimper and a titter.

_No, don't laugh! You're just gonna make everything worse! _

Her past experience with the supernatural had been unpleasant, to say the least. But she certainly couldn't tell Acey and her phantom friend that. That, and everything attached to the incident, was a guarded secret.

Were Acey's powers a guarded secret, as well? Had that been the reason she had refused to take any interviews from anyone else?

Erin wasn't sure whether this made her the luckiest girl on the planet, or the unluckiest. The feeling was all too familiar.

_Why me? _

Cracking a crooked cross grin that felt anything but, she settled for parroting: "A-a medium? You gab with ghosts?"

Then to make up for it, she blurted, "That's weird."

Bad word choice.

She _really _didn't like the way Jaime glowered down at her as she started staggering back onto her feet, reserving whatever effort she could muster to help Acey up, as well. She succeeded only in toppling them both down again as she hastily defended herself: "I don't mean that in a bad way! W-weird is _good! _Weird is goody-good! It's _strange_ that's bad!" She meant it, too. She should know.

It could've been far worse.

Acey placed her finger on Erin's lips to silence her rambling. "_Shh_, I understood what you meant." She maneuvered herself so that she was sitting cross-legged on the floor before she tucked a stray lock of hair behind Erin's ear. Acey's fingers brushed against her cheek in a soothing, comforting gesture to show that she wasn't offended. "Yes, I was born with this ability. As you can imagine, my ability comes in handy as a detective…"

She paused, a noticeable silence falling over her. Acey had to stop herself short of mentioning L.

"Now, then!" Acey exclaimed enthusiastically, shooting Erin an encouraging smile. "I do believe you have a lot of questions to ask me, so let's get down to it, shall we?"

For a young odd genius who could gab with ghosts, Acey seemed like a swell girl, for the most part. Focusing her gaze more on her and less on her scowling ghost-friend, Erin was unsure whether or not to find a seat. Since Acey was on the floor, however, it'd only make sense that the interviewer and interviewee be on the same level.

So Erin crossed her legs as well as she took off her hat, while the other cautiously reached over to the side to retrieve her notepad as she kept her eyes pasted onto Acey. Her head buzzed like a disturbed hornet's nest.

_All right, Erin. You're treading on very delicate ground, here. Be careful what you ask. My God, look at her arms. Don't stare at her arms; her eyes are on her face! Should I ask about her scars? No, no, don't do that. You don't like it when people mention your hand. You're here to discuss the case…unless the scars somehow have some kind of relevance to it. Do they? Oh, man…_

She wondered if ghosts mauled people if they sensed fear.

Just to break the ice, Erin stammered, "Uh, yeah, a cornucopia, in fact! I-I would imagine that being able to talk to ghosts come in…q-quite handy when investigating a…m-murder case."

Her tongue flinched when the word "murder" rolled off it.

She was pulling every word out of her ass as she went along, dreading what Acey had thought about that. No matter how much preparation she would do the day before, it all seemed to glug down the drain when the time came to actually do the job.

"So, I suppose my first question would have to be, how do you utilize your…gifts, your talents, to solve a case? Not just this one—we're all indebted to you for closing this one, by the way, hope you know that—but any case?"

"Well, ghosts are naturally attracted to the aura I give off as a medium. However, I use several methods," Acey began, taking care to speak in a rhythm that gave Erin enough time to write. "The one I usually use is I acquire a lock of the victim's hair or an item that was personal to the victim. The wandering soul will be attracted to it, giving them a means to find me."

"So then all you have to do is talk to the victim's, uh…spirit, ghost, whatever…to relay what exactly happened to them and who the killer is? Gosh, that's amazing," grunted Erin through clenched teeth as she carved Acey's words into the paper with a trembling hand, and not just out of awe. "How did this method work for you during this particular case? Or did you use other methods?"

Acey smiled fondly at Erin. The journalist's awe and admiration for her was cute. It made her want to move closer to her and lay her head in her lap for the rest of the interview. Not a lot of people exhibited awe or admiration of any kind towards Acey before. The only people she could think of that did were Near and L, though their's had been more of a silent awe.

"Actually, I didn't have to use any kind of method. A woman's spirit I talked to was so determined to bring the Dragonfly down that she sought me out on her own, having heard mention of me and what my line of work was through the supernatural grapevine. I hadn't actually been assigned to the Dragonfly case at all."

"Really? You weren't even _assigned _to the case? That's incredible, that the investigation let you help solve it!"

A mass of soft, purring fur rubbed up against her hip. Erin peered down to find Acey's feline friend beside her. Cats were more forgiving, huh?

The tense, sheepish grin on Erin's lips began to loosen under the familiar, welcoming sensation. "Oh, well, hey there, little guy. Or is it a 'she?'"

"Wicked is a 'he.'"

"Oh. Wonder how you got your name, you little rascal?" She was only vaguely aware that she was getting off-topic as she reached out a timid hand to stroke down the cat's backbone. Why couldn't Acey have just had a cat and not an unfriendly ghost looming around, as well?

"Well, it's cool that you have a cat. I have one, too. I know, I know, I look more like a dog-person, but I have a cat, too, and your cat reminds me of him. He really does."

"What's your cat's name?" Acey asked, leaning forward so she could retrieve her cell phone from her back pocket when she felt it vibrate. "Shit, it seems my flight back to England has been delayed until tomorrow night," she murmured, worrying at her lower lip with her fingers after reading the text message from Near.

Erin withdrew her hand. "Um, his name's Lawliet. Ah, now, where were we?"

Acey's breath hitched in her throat. Her cell phone slid out of her hand, falling to the floor with a soft clatter. Her hand shook as she picked it up.

"Erin, w-where did you get that name?" Acey inquired, staring at her with a stunned look in her eyes.

Now it was Erin's turn to shiver. When she'd adopted Lawliet, she had given him that name under the assumption that she was the only one on the outside who knew the significance of it, and out of her desire to keep the kitten's namesake remembered in some way. Acey had seemed so laid-back to her up until this point, in spite of the ghost thing. Why was she suddenly…?

Erin's fingers twitched with the urge to scratch the back of her head, but she refrained. After all, it was poor interview etiquette to scratch oneself. Wasn't _she _supposed to be asking the questions?

"Where'd I get the name Lawliet, you mean? Uh…well, I…I just thought it'd make a nice, unique name for a cat, instead of some tired cliché like Fluffy or Mittens. Found it in a name book, and it clicked. And he lives up to it: he's a scrawny little thing that likes dark places, but he's smart. Boy, is he smart! No matter where I hide his treats, I always come back to an empty box," she tittered. "And yet he's hardly gained ten pounds since I got him! I worry about him sometimes…"

Clearing her throat, Erin blurted, "I'm sorry, we're getting off-track, aren't we?" She blushed. "So…ha-ha, do you remember what we were talking about? Geez, I'm such a dork, sometimes." The room temperature was starting to make her melt, almost enough to make Jaime's cold slap feel welcome.

"Your shiver, the way your finger twitched, the fact that you gave me a long, drawn out speech about how you named your cat when you simply could've told me that you'd found his name in a book indicates to me that you are lying," Acey deadpanned bluntly. It had been a long time since she'd heard L's name spoken out loud.

Erin cringed at her accusation. The way she delivered it...it sounded too much like the way _he _would've said it. Right down to the flatness.

Why was this beginning to feel more like an interrogation than an innocent interview, with her on the wrong end?

Damn! Why'd she have to get so fidgety every time she lied? Well, Erin had always been a little fidgety, but even more so when telling a lie. She should've known better than to fib to a freaking _detective_, a genius who dealt with the supernatural, no less. Experience should've hammered that lesson into her head a long time ago.

Then again, Erin didn't always learn things in the first go-round.

_Oh, why's she getting so worked up over that name, anyway? If I didn't know better, I'd say that that'd be because she'd know what the name meant. _

_And if that were the case, then…wouldn't that mean…_

…_she knew him from somewhere, too? _

…

Her heart gave such an intense jolt that she smashed the tip of her pen into the notepad.

_No way! No way, no how! The only connection he ever had as a detective was with Watari…Mr. Wammy…_

_But then again, that's the only one that _I_ know of. _

She'd lived with that maniac for almost six months, and even then—and now—it felt as if she'd hardly learned a mite about him.

Only when Erin blinked did she notice the growing splatter of blue ink eating the page from the margin outward.

"Oh, fuck!" she cursed: another example of poor, poor interview etiquette. "My pen!" But her pen wasn't the only one running in that second.

Jaime scowled at Erin in passing to fetch a towel from the bathroom. This woman knew L? _Really?_ He had no idea what L had seen in her to make him share something as sacred as his name. Jaime knew that sharing your name with someone was a taboo if you were a Wammy's kid, and doing so meant that they held that person in extremely high regard and had unfathomable trust in them. Jaime could count on one hand how many people knew his lady's real name.

He figured that enough of Acey's aura still remained on Erin's skin for him to still be visible to her. "You should've known better than to try and lie to my lady. For a journalist, I have no idea where you got your brain," he sneered as he threw the towel at her.

Erin could feel Jaime sharpening his otherworldly gaze upon her as she fumbled with the wadded towel. Ghosts were keen on catching liars in the act, too, apparently. Was he going to eat her soul as punishment?

"Jaime!" Acey yelled, looking over her shoulder at him as she felt around under the coffee table. "Stop being an ass to her right now, do you understand me? I won't tolerate any more of your rude behavior towards her!" She went back to checking the room for bugs. Acey knew the chances of the room being bugged were low, but old habits die hard. She'd been mentored under the best, after all.

Once she was satisfied that there were indeed no bugs, Acey brushed her hands off on her jeans and sat back down across from Erin, grabbing a pen and a notebook off the coffee table in passing. Acey decided to give her a test.

Opening the notebook, Acey began to scribble three names in neat handwriting: _Rue Ryuzaki, Eraldo Coil, Deneuve._

She paused, pulling her lower lip between her teeth and worrying at it with them. The heavy feeling in her heart was threatening to bring tears into her eyes._ Control yourself, Acey. Damn you, L! I don't think you knew the affect you had on people. _

Acey handed the notebook to Erin. "Tell me what these three names have in common." She didn't phrase it as a question because she had a feeling that her hunch was right.

What a fine plot twist! Losing her script had been bad enough, but when she somehow found the time to look at the names, she could practically feel her aorta rupture. Ryuzaki, Coil, Deneuve…she knew those names. She knew them too well. He'd had too many damn names to go by.

But _Acey _seemed to know them, too. She could tell from the strained look on her angular face. _But how?_

More importantly, how was she going to sidestep this one? _Could _she? The past was coming up again like the worst case of acid reflux she'd ever known, boiling her from the inside-out.

_D'oh, I'm such an ijit! I promised that I'd never speak about it to anyone on the outside. But if this girl's got some connection with L, what's she gonna do to me? _

_How the hell do I end up in these messes…? _

Now it was her turn to blink back fearful tears; here she was, thinking she'd outgrown her crybaby ways. "L-look, friend, I can tell you this much: those names each belong to a…a detective," she stuttered, holding her marred notepad to her like a breastplate. Would that speck of ambiguity throw her off? Not likely. But anything would've been better than breaking her vow up front.

Pause.

Her mouth ran opposite of her head as she added as softly as possible: "I haven't said anything, I swear to God I haven't. I dunno how _you _would know them, but…oh, just, please don't kidnap me or anything. I—I don't need that kind of stress in my life, right now."

_Might as well have made a death wish_, she mentally moaned as she recounted her words. She had started to find it in her to forgive her late lunatic friend's actions, but that didn't necessarily mean that she wanted to go through _another_ kidnapping. Especially not by some stranger with whom she'd had not even the privilege to get acquainted with first.

Acey raised an eyebrow. _L must've done something to traumatize her, at some point._

She scooted in front of Erin. Cupping the sides of her face, she laid a gentle kiss on Erin's forehead. "Kidnap you? Now why would I do that?"

Erin stayed completely still, unsure of what to make of the girl's touch. She sure was a rather touchy-feely person, but where was her room to criticize? At least she wasn't threatening her with her guard ghost or something along those lines.

…

How funny. More and more, this girl and her weird, gentle mannerisms kept reminding her of—

Catching Erin's tears out of the corner of her eye with her thumb, the detective explained calmly, "Those names belonged to a detective named L, my late mentor. My promised fiancé will definitely frown on me, but it seems I can't avoid telling you this. I'm Acey of Spades, the A who works alongside the current L. And know this, too, Erin: I would do nothing to hurt you."


	2. 00: 2

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). **

_**00-2**_

That was enough to stop the tears, though not so much out of relief as out of _what the hell did she just say? _

Acey might as well have spoken in Swahili (she certainly seemed intelligent enough to know the language). Had Erin simply imagined every word out of her mouth? Or had the girl holding her face honestly just used fancy phrases such as "L my late mentor," and "the current L?"

The suite and everything in it had suddenly begun spinning in front of her, or that could've been her brain blowing a fuse. The memory of a cruel fact of life loomed over her in almost the same way Jaime was over both girls, the longer she sat there in a stone-dumb silence: once one brushes with the things she had brushed with, they can never simply leave them behind. It becomes a part of them, and them, a part of it. It practically implants itself into their DNA.

Of course, Erin had had this somewhat figured for some time (and unbeknownst to her, so had Acey, for the longest time). And yet, there was something about hearing…whatever the hell Acey had just said, that made this lesson all the sharper in her mind.

Ironically enough, since Erin found herself babbling, "I'm sorry, I…I don't think I caught that. I don't think I caught that at all." She lifted a quivering hand to her ear, though she didn't stick her pinkie in it, like she used to. At least, she had outgrown that much. "Could you repeat that?" she asked with a nervous and completely unconscious giggle when a vague wave of déjà vu made her vision swim in place of her tears.

Wasn't this similar to how she'd found out that L was L? All that was missing was the fainting part.

With the venomous look Jaime fired at her, she just about geared up for fainting. Did he suspect her to be bugged?

Judging from Erin's reaction, she must've known L in some way and wasn't a fan that had been on his side. A fan wouldn't have known his real name. "A-are you alright?" Acey asked with a frown, concerned. The poor girl looked wan and dizzy. "Do you need to lie down? Jaime, go get her a glass of water."

Jaime scowled. "Oh Jesus Christ," he complained, stomping off to the kitchen. _Honestly_, couldn't this woman be more composed? "I'm going to report in to Near," he grumbled as he shoved a glass of water into Acey's hand, vanishing from the room without another word, like dust in the wind.

_Near…who's Near? Another connection? _

Erin put up twitching hand to the water in tentative refusal. "No, thank you. I just want you to clarify. A couple seconds ago, I imagined you telling me that L used to be your mentor, and that you're working with him."

What was the use in dodging, anymore? She had been caught. What would befall her, now? What if Acey was lying and was an enemy of his seeking information about him? The possibilities were boundless, and for someone as paranoid and imaginative as Erin, there couldn't be a worse torture. "B-but that can't be right, because the L I knew is…"

Dead? Gone? Six feet under? Pushing up daisies? Taking a dirt nap? Worm chow? In nothingness? She couldn't decide on a euphemism, or if she could, the sticky obstruction in her throat jammed the already spotty connection between her mouth and her brain before she could spit it out.

She wished she hadn't had to pick a euphemism, in the first place.

Maybe she would need the water, after all?

"You didn't hear wrong, Erin. L was my mentor before he…died." The word "died" felt heavy on her tongue. She sincerely hoped Kira was burning wherever he was. "But his legacy isn't dead. I come from a place called Wammy's House, an orphanage that grooms geniuses to succeed L in case anything were to happen to him. I was a different case, however," she said, wearily rubbing her temples. "Let's just say it's a long story on how L blackmailed me into being available at his beck and call concerning anything supernatural if it happened to come up in a case."

_Though_ _I can't say it wasn't the best thing that's ever happened to me,_ Acey thought as she brushed the promise ring on her finger.

"I remember him being absolutely powerless without me on a few occasions," Acey added, a tony smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. "To the world, L is still alive. A boy named Near inherited his title." She finished, patiently waiting for Erin absorb what she'd just told her.

_I hope I haven't overwhelmed her._

Her hope was in vain.

For another moment, Erin remained absolutely still, like a volcano mere seconds before its eruption, as she struggled to draw the dots together. She did not like the picture emerging in her head. Even if it helped her to better understand why his death had never been noticed, much less announced.

_Everything _would've made more sense, if Acey was telling the truth. That was probably the worst part of it all.

_Near…HE'S the guy working as L? The ghost said that he's reporting to him…about me, probably. Oh, Jesus! Oh, sweet Jesus of Nazareth! _

Shock aside, there just seemed to be something…awful, about having the place where one grew up raise little kids to replace them when they died. Almost like scrapping an older model of a car or computer for a brand-new one. Erin's thoughts became so scrambled and convoluted in that one moment that she'd begun losing track of each and every one of them.

On the outside, she moaned out the first complete thought she could catch: "Water. G-gimme the water. Quick, please."

Acey handed her the glass.

_SPLASH!_

The sensation of cold tap water dribbling down her face did little to comfort her, but it least it delayed almost certain death by panic-induced heat stroke.

As she tossed her head back and forth, she sputtered, "Oh, now what'd you have to go and tell me all that for? Now you either gotta kidnap me or kill me on the spot, to keep your secret safe. Damn it, why do you think I asked you not to kidnap me? I didn't need to know all of that! _He_ pulled the same thing on me, practically. God!"

She was only somewhat aware that she might've been contradicting herself, considering how she'd asked Acey to repeat herself earlier. But then, had Acey not said anything at all, there wouldn't have been any problems.

Erin stopped to swallow down that wave of nausea threatening to tear up her esophagus. "This Near character…the ghost is talking to him, right now, isn't he? About me? Please, I-I don't want any more trouble, for either of us. I really don't."

_Acey said that L would call on her when confronting the supernatural…well, where was she during the Kira case, then? Does she even know about that case, _she found herself wondering.

"No. I doubt a word will be said, about you or what we're talking about. Near isn't used to me being away from him on a separate case. He just wanted Jaime to give him updates on my condition because he knows how I can get if I am alone," Acey assured, smiling at Erin.

As far as the Kira case, Acey blamed herself for its results. The Death Note had been, if anything, supernatural. L's actions had been on his own accord, but the supernatural was her specialty. If only she could've done something, anything more, perhaps the ending results could've been different?

Acey closed her hand into a fist, digging her fingernails into her palm to bite back the rush of guilt, hard enough to bring blood to trickle down her palm.

Once it had passed, Acey looked at Erin imploringly, begging her to understand that she had meant what she'd said earlier. She wanted to grab Erin and shake her. "I meant what I said before, Erin. I am going to do nothing of the sort. But if you wish to leave now, I won't stop you."

…

_Huh? _

It took a while longer for Erin to process what the young medium had just told her. _Th—that's it? She's just gonna…let me go? After all of that stuff she's just told me, she would let me…? _

_Why would she do that? I'm a journalist, for crying out loud. How does she trust that I won't go blab off all of her and L's secrets for a quick buck? Not that I'm that type in the first place, but still…_

Her thoughts hummed in muggy discord yet again when her eyes drifted and fixed upon the girl's shaking hands. Even in all of the confusion, she didn't fail to see the thin crimson streaks skimming between her slender fingers. Just seeing it made her own broken hand twitch in remorseful nostalgia.

Suddenly, Erin didn't know whether to feel sorry for her own misfortune as much she did for the girl in front of her. She looked hurt, all of a sudden.

Almost like _he_ had when she'd left him.

"Y-you're bleeding," she said quietly. "Christ, you're bleeding." She had to do something. Whether the detective was sincere in offering her an exit or not, she had been kind to her. She wanted to leave, yes, but not if it meant leaving her with that look on her face. She couldn't stand that look.

She'd already made that mistake, once. That was one lesson Erin _had _learned, the first time around.

Erin didn't know how exactly, but she somehow managed to conquer the numb gelatin feeling in her legs to scoot over to take Acey's hand into her own quivering one and gently open it as though she were unraveling a balled-up piece of paper. When she saw the tiny, inflamed crest-shaped wounds contrasting against the pale surface of Acey's palm, she winced.

"Oh man, you're bleeding," she repeated, struggling to find something more intelligent to say. "Look, I'm—I'm sorry if I…it's just that…"

Acey was a little startled at Erin's attempt to help her. She'd been scaring the hell out of the poor girl a moment ago, and now she was trying to tend to her hand. In all honesty, Acey was freezing up. Her heart was starting to pound in her chest as she looked down at the blood pooling in her palm.

_Blood…_

She was starting to shiver. _All that blood…_

"N-no, i-it wasn't you, dear." She tried to smile as reassuringly as possible, but it never reached her eyes. Pulling her hand gently from Erin's grasp, Acey got up and walked to the kitchen sink to run her hand under some water.

"Dear?" That killed Erin, having Acey call her "dear." Didn't older people usually call younger people that?

Now that her back was turned to Erin, Acey could scold herself for freezing up like that. _Come on, Ace, you should be over this already, _she thought, gripping the counter.

That wouldn't be the last either of hear it, however. Almost as soon as Acey stepped into the kitchen, Erin followed suit to watch from the safety of the threshold. Her stomach lurched as she watched the drain at the bottom of the sink greedily guzzle the red life-liquid, leaving temporary stains around its lips that the running water quickly erased. She inched her way towards the young girl with every ounce of wariness she could muster, like she were approaching a burning bush that flourished under the flames.

_Does she cut herself? _

Erin cringed at the thought, more so when she noticed Acey's fingers whiten as they clutched the edge of the counter. What a terrible idea. But then, wouldn't that explain all of those scars lining her arms?

Anyone who would have any association with the likes of L had to be considerably insane. Erin would know. Whatever this girl's hang-ups were, perhaps the wisest thing to have done was to leave it at that, not to get more and more tangled up in them.

She would leave the girl be as soon as she got that wretched look off her face.

"Y-you got any gauze, or something?" she piped up, her hand spasming ever so slightly as it reached over Acey's shoulder to turn off the faucet. "What you really oughta do is stop the bleeding. Running it under the water makes it worse, I think."

…

Perhaps there was something about Acey's apparent trust in her that made Erin want to discuss her own one-time brush with self-mutilation: something she had never freely disclosed since it'd happened? Perhaps it was her own bleeding heart taking over the situation for reasoning (as usual)? Whatever had made Erin speak up again, she did, as she searched around the sink for paper towels or anything close to such.

"I can tell you that from my own personal experience," she murmured.

"Seem like we both have experience, then. Using cold water actually constricts the blood vessels and slows the bleeding," Acey replied, effectively delivering a light kick to Erin's ego.

"I'm sure there is gauze in the bathroom. This is an expensive hotel suite, for Christ sake." Her voice seemed to have a slight edge to it that hadn't been there before.

_That's right Ace, just keep talking to her. Don't let your mind wander back to the way the blood stained the snow._

As before, as the medium shuffled for the bathroom, Erin trailed behind her, almost like a timid puppy-dog: sensing someone's pain, but unable to do much to do about it except follow.

"You know, I can hear you thinking, wondering. When you keep company with people like L and Near, you can start to hear their thoughts. You're a journalist, so I doubt you ever stop thinking, either."

Erin could barely help the shrill _"Eep!_" that sliced out of her throat as she cupped her hands over her head like a helmet, having left her hat by the couch with Wicked. _Oh crap, she's a mind-reader, too? Huh. Then again…she is a genius detective. _

_Just like he was. _

Again, she lingered in the threshold, tangoing with the impulse to wring her wrists. "Uh…yeah. I-I'd say that was an accurate assessment. In fact, ha-ha, I think so much, sometimes I can hardly pay attention to anything that's going on outside." Some old habits died hard. But perhaps others just didn't die at all?

As Acey reached for the box of gauze, she watched drops of blood dripping off the edge of her hand to make tiny crimson puddles in the sink. Her stomach churned. Her eyes widened and she started to shiver again.

"Go ahead and ask anything you want. I think we crossed the line of discretion a long time ago," she said. There was something more contrasting about her voice, now. No longer gentle, it had grown cold and tired. Like the voice of someone who had been through unspeakable things.

_It was pure luck...if it weren't for Mr. Wammy and L, I'd surely be dead right now. No, I _would_ be dead._

She did have a point, about crossing that line. Though Erin certainly didn't like the change in Acey's voice. "Well, water probably can't work that well when you…you know, got glass or something poking out."

The words tasted vaguely like vomit on her palate—sharp, acidy, thick—as they did every time. No use sugar-coating it, then? Acey sure wasn't coating anything, anymore.

"I drove my own paw through a bathroom mirror, if you want the truth. Wound up tearing it to shreds." She winced as she summarized, the way one would when prodding an old wound. Peeling an old scab.

Erin didn't waste much time wondering if Acey would ask her why she'd punch out a bathroom mirror, in the first place. Maybe in her disturbed mind-set, she wouldn't find such behavior as atypical?

She didn't bother to acknowledge her mistake as stupid. That was a given, by that point. No need to justify herself to someone like Acey. For a moment, in a very odd, ineffable way, it felt as though Erin was among a comrade. A friend. Or a neighbor, at least.

"I only did it once, though, so I guess that's why you can't really see the—"

_Scars. Those scars look awful on you, even if they are permanent. Doesn't mean they look any nicer. _

"Y-you see, that's why I don't like mirrors. So you are right. Water, cold or otherwise, doesn't work very well…"

Acey trailed off. Her eyes became somewhat unfocused as she scanned her surroundings, all thoughts of putting gauze on her hand forgotten. "I always used to kneel right there in front of the sink, pulling huge chunks of glass out of my arms. There was always so much blood."

There was a pregnant pause before Acey looked up at Erin. "It's only fair I tell you about my scars, since you told me of yours. My mother didn't like the fact that I was a medium very much. Every time she held me, she always saw ghosts in the area. It wasn't long before she really started to lose her mind. So…so she thought she could correct that problem," Acey swallowed audibly, air-quoting the word "problem."

"She shattered her bedroom mirror, one night, and proceeded to stab any open flesh she could get to with glass. Her mind-set was that the glass would reflect the 'demons inside me' to God and he'd cast them out. It wasn't just the bedroom mirror; it was any mirror she could find. Finally, she stabbed me deep enough that she hit an artery or something.

"I fought her off and fled, only to pass out in the snow. It was pure luck that I collapsed in front of the hotel L and Mr. Wammy were staying at. Of course, when L reached down to check to see if I was still alive, he discovered what I was."

_Mr. Wammy...Watari. _

Acey paused, smiling somewhat at Erin. "They saved my life, that night. And before I knew it, I was at Wammy's working on retainer as a supernatural detective for L."

Never mind the monstrous undertow of nausea that threatened to rag her under. Before she was conscious of them, hot tears singed the edges of her vision, the reason for their being undetermined even by her. Was it the part about the insane mother that made her sick? Or the part about L having saved this girl's life?

Both, perhaps?

_So we both kinda owe something to you, don't we…?_

Left once more with nothing intelligent to say, Erin responded to Acey's story in the only way she knew how: stepping in to sling her arms around the tiny girl, biting her bottom lip in a weak attempt to button up her quiet sobs.

_You're just a little kid. Near probably is, too. Little kids taking on more responsibilities than they should have. _

_Just like L. Or Light. _

If anything, meeting someone like L—and as of now, one like Acey—had boosted Erin's gratefulness for having had it so well as a child, with a stable home and a family. While she was unwrapping Christmas gifts with her family under the tree or playing baseball out on the street with her elementary school friends after school or blowing chunks after jumping off the Tilt-O-Whirl at the fair, kids like L and Acey and Near wasted their childhood behind computer monitors and aliases, the most human contact they'd ever have in the form of pictures of bloody bodies and mug shots and all of those R-rated things that most kids were _forbidden _from seeing.

She thought about L, and how he hadn't seemed destined for much of anything besides detecting. _Have they nothing good going for THEM, at all...?_

On the outside, she rested her cheek at the top of Acey's blonde head, her touch as light as she could make it, but her hands now trembling almost as much as her voice was: "B-but you're just a little kid. It's not your fault you were born the way you are. Little kids shouldn't have to go through shit like that. N-not you, not your friend Near, and not…"

_L and Light. _

She had never been able to freely discuss the Kira Incident with anyone on the outside since she'd returned home from Japan. Would she be able to now? Could she? _Should_ she? Her words, her thoughts kept rotting away before reaching fruition as she glanced down at the gashes on the girl's shoulders.

Acey gasped softly when Erin hugged her. It felt like she was clinging to her, desperately trying to drain away any and every horror Acey had experienced in her life. But her embrace was kind, and comforting.

"H-hey, now why are you crying?" She asked as she wrapped her arms around the older girl. "I may be young, but I assure you, my soul is very old. I promise you, it's not all bad. I just got dealt a shitty hand, is all. I have no regrets. Well, except maybe for one. I messed up pretty bad."

As for Erin having not seen Acey at all during the Kira Case, it had been set up that way. Not even the Task Force had known she was there. Only L had. When L had made the decision to write his name in the Death Note, she remembered how furious she'd been when L had locked her up until it was all said and done. Acey still had no idea if he had been trying to protect her, or keeping an important asset to L safe because if that was the case, it had been a pretty stupid time to do so, whatever the case was.

_If he had given me just a little longer, I could've changed the outcome. _

Age seemed to be such an irrelevant thing, when it all boiled down to it. The way Acey spoke to her, Erin almost couldn't tell anymore who was the older of them, or the younger. Not really. She couldn't let her go, yet. She reminded her too much of him. The pitiful lost child-part of him, when he hadn't been busy being an obnoxious, paranoid borderline sociopath.

All she could do about it was keep hanging on. Was Acey even comfortable with being held like this?

"What wrong could you have possibly done," she whispered, "that could outweigh all the wrong that's been done to you?"

Normally, Acey would've balked away already from an embrace. She wasn't very privy to any kind of human contact from anyone save for Near, but this woman…there was something about her. Vulnerability had been somewhat of a no-no, where she'd come from, but somehow it felt like she was allowed to be vulnerable around her.

_Please, don't let go. Not yet. Just a little longer._

Acey hugged Erin a little tighter. "I let down the one person who had even a smidgen of belief in me," she replied softly, fisting a handful of Erin's shirt. "And I swear I'm not going to let anybody die like that ever, _ever_ again." She finished on a fierce pitch, burying her face in Erin's shoulder.

Acey trusted her. She wanted her to hold her; Erin could feel it in the way her bony wrists balled up the fabric of her blouse. The very concept stung her eyes.

_Is she talking about you, L? _

…_Maybe she does know what happened? And she's hurting over it like I am. For her own reasons, like I've got mine. But pain is pain, no matter what. _

She could only afford three words to echo the sentiment both shared in that moment: "So did I."


	3. 00: 3

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). **

_**00-3**_

Frowning deeply, Jaime stalked down the halls of Wammy's House. He was utterly flabbergasted, not to mention annoyed. Acey had _never_ trusted anybody right off the bat like that; for her to spill her guts to someone she'd only just met was very, very out of character. It had taken her forever to trust even L. So why this woman, why Erin Blogger? Still, there was something he hadn't been able to ignore.

One way or another, both seemed to share the same pain.

_What is your mindset, m'lady? Why did you tell Blogger everything? Are you still seeking your senseless atonement,_ Jaime thought as he stopped in front of Near's room.

"Near? It's Jaime."

"Come in."

Once he stepped through the door without wasting an ounce of effort in opening it—being a ghost had its perks—he bowed in greeting, trying to disguise the strained look on his face. It was a feeble effort, however, because Near still noticed from his place on the hardwood floor. There was a reason why he had been selected to continue L's legacy.

"Tell me, Jaime. What has Acey done, now?" Near deadpanned, looking up at Jaime once he'd put the final piece of his puzzle in place. "Am I correct in assuming something went wrong during the interview?"

"Sort of, sir. The interview was going smoothly until the name of Blogger's cat came up," Jaime explained, rubbing the back of his neck. _Just how am I going to explain this to Near?_

"She claimed that her cat's name…is Lawliet," he followed up quietly, settling for the blunt approach.

Already, Near didn't like where this was going. However, he was interested in as to how this journalist managed to obtain L's real name. "Elaborate."

"I'm going to cut to the chase, sir. This girl, Erin Blogger, somehow knew L. She was able to identify all three of the aliases that Acey showed to her. So then she told her about Wammy's House, her connection to L, and that you inherited L's title." Jaime shuffled his feet nervously. He knew if he was still human, his heart would be pounding and he would be holding his breath as he waited for Near's response. "How would you have me deal with this?"

"Actually, I'd like to see how this plays out," said Near. He twisted a lock of his unruly cotton-white hair around his finger in contemplation.

The disgruntled ghost's eyes suddenly widened. "What? B-but Near, that's insane!"

Near raised his hand to silence Jaime. "I can already predict Acey's next move." Turning his back to the phantom, he dumped the puzzle pieces all over the floor in a soft chorus of patters.

Jaime's mouth dropped open as he recoiled in dismay. "Oh God, you don't mean…"

…

"Is it okay if I held Wicked? I—I just need something soft and furry, right now. Cuddling something usually helps steady my nerves. Just ask Lawliet. My cat, I mean," Erin tittered. "We can share, though. He is _your_ cat and all."

The two had settled back into the couch side by side to continue their conversation, Acey's hand wrapped in a fresh sheet of gauze with Erin's help. Up until this point, the cat had been casually weaving himself in and out of the girls' legs, a gesture that Erin couldn't help but find a little soothing. Perhaps she and Acey had had more in common than she'd initially recognized?

Still, farther back in her mind, she couldn't help but notice that that guard ghost had been gone for quite some time. Where could he have left to? Surely, he wouldn't trust a jerk like her alone in a suite with his…ward. Was that the right term, "ward?" Well, the point was, she doubted that he would trust her with Acey. So where was he?

"Sure, I don't mind," Acey replied, flashing Erin a bright smile as she reached down to scoop Wicked up into her arms. "His name precedes him; he certainly is a wicked widdle kitty," she cooed, rubbing her cheek against Wicked's soft, black fur before handing him off to Erin. Wicked hopped onto Erin's lap, more than happy to accommodate her. Pressing his paws against her shoulders, he rubbed his face against her neck, purring loudly.

"A bad boy, huh?" Erin chuckled, relishing in the feline's affection as she gently combed the back of his ears with her fingertips. "He could've fooled me."

Acey snuck a brief glance at the clock. She knew more than enough time had passed, and Jaime was no doubt at Wammy's, telling Near everything she'd confided to Erin. She felt bad about lying to her about it, and she certainly wasn't going to tell Erin now and run the risk of freaking her out to the point where she would leave.

Acey was careful not to let her concern show on her face as she turned back to Erin. "As I said before, Wicked's name befits him. He was quite the little hell-raiser, back in the day. He was a stray that the boys liked to chase around Wammy's. He nearly clawed off the face of each and every boy who managed to catch him. A group of boys got together, daring one another to try and catch him as a game. Let's just say, all of them nearly lost their eyes that day.

"I happened to be passing by during the game. I remember seeing Wicked scratch Mello up pretty good. He chose me as his owner that day. The second Mello dropped him, Wicked bolted over to me and jumped into my arms the second I couched down to pick him up."

Acey reached over to join Erin in scratching Wicked behind the ears. "He hasn't left my side since. It's funny: considering how much he hated men, the only boy Wicked would cozy up with was L," she murmured.

"Well, old L always did look sort of cat-like to me, if we're talking about the same guy like I think we are," Erin admitted. "Maybe Wicked found that attractive, who knows? Actually, he only looked cat-like some of the time. Other days, he'd look more monkey-like. But he ate like a pig and was all-around cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs."

Figuring that she'd done enough with the animal comparisons, she cleared her throat. After all, not many people would appreciate hearing someone talk about their late mentor, that way, right? "I-if you don't mind me saying. That was just my impression of him; I would think you'd know him, better."

She stopped stroking the velvety back of Wicked's head, keeping her hand hovered over him instead as she reminisced. "Old L…what a piece of work he was. God…"

Just thinking about her friend suddenly stole her ability to speak more articulately. Indeed, since they'd met, theirs had always been a strained relationship. Having gotten off to a rocky start (since kidnapping someone didn't exactly make a good first impression), it'd remained riveted with tension to the end. _Especially _to the end. For a fat chunk of the time they lived together, he'd been, at the minimum, a nuisance to her. As she was, to him.

Sometimes, though, when she looked back on everything, she wondered if their individual definitions of "nuisance" had been remotely the same.

"Acey…was L the kind of guy who—I dunno—picked on you a lot because he _liked_ you, or something? Wh-what was he like, in general?" Where did that question come from? It wasn't like it mattered much anymore, since he'd quietly left the world so long ago. But these thoughts surged through her mind like a bad itch that could only be scratched by voicing them.

Her words came out small and timid, almost scratchy. They rubbed at her throat like poison ivy that she never would've thought she'd wish to touch on again, much less share with someone else.

Acey looked away from Erin, worrying at her lower lip with her fingers while she considered her answer. "Wow, that's a loaded question," she muttered. "I think L was the most peculiar creature I ever met." Fresh tears stung her eyes. Acey couldn't tell what kind of tears they were—ones of anger? Or fond ones?

Wicked grew concerned when he saw them, and climbed into her lap to comfort her. Erin let him go.

Acey hastily brushed the tears away with the back of her hand before she turned back to Erin. "He could reduce me to tears one second, then turn right around and hand me a tissue like it was a peace offering. He ran hot and cold so fast, I swear it gave me whiplash. To answer the question you hide in your question, yes, he screwed me around mercilessly. It would get to the point where I'd almost ask him why he even saved my life, why he didn't just let me die if he really disliked me as much as he'd let on. However, he must've sensed when it did get to that point because he would always drop subtle hints that let me know he cared for me."

…_Why does _that _sound so familiar? _

"Like he would sit with me and quiet me down when I'd wake up from the nightmares I used to have." Acey smiled wearily at Erin. "I hope that was a helpful answer."

Tried as she did to return the expression, Erin's kept crumbling into something that was neither a full smile nor a frown. Even post-humorously, she continued to find more and more reasons to pity him. If that was how he treated everyone he cared about, that left little wonder why his friends had been so scarce, even nonexistent. No one who didn't understand him would tolerate him.

And the only one who truly did understand L had passed on just before him, so long ago.

"So…he was sort of like to you what my brother is to me, huh? Only wackier, obviously. Excuse me for saying this, but your take on him sounds creepily like mine. Well, not a hundred percent the same, but pretty close. When I lived with him, he liked to call me a nuisance and 'in the way' and all. Just because I didn't like the way he did things and made sure he knew it, among other…things. What's funny, _he's _the one who forced me to—"

…_stay with him. He could've left me well enough alone. _

On the other hand, had he left her alone, she would've never gotten to know the human being, the boy, behind the big, bad "L." Or the kids behind Kira, for that matter. Sometimes, she regretted having ever thrown her "trash" on the ground so they could bump into one another. Yet sometimes, she didn't.

Erin balked against her will, once more. Could she go any further? She'd gotten so used to telling her fabricated version of the tragedy to anyone who'd asked, would Erin had been able to profess the undiluted truth, even to an associate of L's?

Acey cocked her head slightly, listening to Erin attentively. "If it makes you feel any better, he always took shots at my height and the fact that I suck at Math," she said, having stated that fact to see if she could draw a smile from Erin that would reach her eyes. The more Erin talked about L, the more Acey could feel her aura growing heavy. She had a hunch that things between her and L ran deeper than she let on.

_She misses him._

Scooting closer to Erin, Acey wrapped her arms around Erin as Wicked squirmed out of the way so as to avoid being squished. "Your aura, it feels so heavy," she murmured softly in her ear. "You are among a friend here. _P__lease_ stop being so afraid to talk to me."

"Friend." They were friends. That alone squeezed a noise out of her throat that sounded like a chuckle and a sob at the same time.

_My aura is heavy, she says. You're killing me here, kid. Almost like how he used to kill me. _

She slung an arm over Acey's scarred shoulders in return. "I-I'm sorry. It's just that…I haven't actually been able to talk about it to anyone, before," she mumbled, her eye contact with the young medium wavering. "W-we didn't have anything, uh, _intimate _going on, if that's what you're wondering, right now," she added hastily to clarify. "We really didn't. But sometimes I…I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe he meant something different when he called me a nuisance. I think the signs were there: very subtle, almost microscopic, but there. I just wasn't paying attention. What makes it sad, I didn't start paying attention until after I—"

…_left him for dead. _

To be more accurate, L had sent her home before he'd died, against her will, naturally, even if she had wanted to go home all along. But regardless of whether she'd wanted to or not, that was what she'd done, in essence. After blaming him for Light's ungodly fate and everything.

Erin's mouth was sputtering a confession before her brain could find and turn off the ignition. "I called him a loser. Told him that it was his fault for everything. For what happened to—I'm just going by the clean version, here, by the way—I don't know how much you and your Wammy friends were in on it, but Acey, you gotta understand, _Kira _was just a little kid. Okay, m-maybe not little, and yeah, he was batshit insane, but he was still a kid. Younger than me, even, not much older than you. I thought he could be saved. I could've been fooling myself, but maybe, _just maybe _he could've been saved."

The room around them began to lose its shape before Erin's eyes, as though she were staring at it through the inside of an aquarium. "After we lost him, I thought L let him die because he wanted to…win against him so much. Honest to God, I did. And I let him know that. Ho boy, did I let him know. Those were my last words to him.

"And you know what his last words to me were?"

Before Erin was made aware of it, she was holding Acey against her in almost the same way L had held her: one hand behind her head, the other resting on her back as she slumped over the girl's tiny stature.

"'I'm sorry,' he told me. Then he told me to make the best out of my time once I left him…a-and that he believed in me. Even after all that…"

Pause.

"That jerk…putting his faith in another jerk like me when no one would return the favor for him. What a piece of work he was, Jesus Christ." She was only vaguely aware of her rambling, but could do little to stop herself. Except start up the waterworks, again.

"And I have a hunch that he's the one you were talking about in the bathroom," she choked over Acey's head. "The one who had belief in you…that was L, wasn't it?"

_We really do have more in common than I could've counted on._

Acey bit her trembling lower lip. She hugged Erin a little tighter against her, stroking the back of her head to soothe her. The tears that she had been holding back from the start finally began to roll from her eyes.

_It's time to let her in on the fact I was involved in the Kira Case._

Acey crunched back a sob before she replied, nodding weakly. "Yes, he was. But, Erin, please understand me when I say this," she said, pulling back to cup Erin's jaw in her hand, forcing her to look back into her eyes.

Erin thought her heart skipped a beat, for a second there. _She knows? _

"Light Yagami could not be saved, he was too far gone. He may have seemed remotely human without his memories, but in the end, I can assure you, there was no way he could've been saved, supernaturally or otherwise."

Now it was Acey's turn for eye contact to waver. "Instead of Light or L even, the one who should've died that day was…"

_Me. The Death Note was a supernatural element, and the supernatural was my responsibility. _

Trailing off, she closed her eyes to hide just how much guilt she really felt.

"Wh-who, you? Why? It's not like _you_ killed Light. And _you_ didn't tell L to write his own name in the notebook."

…

"Did you?"

What a stupid tag-on! Only after it'd escaped her lips, did Erin realize this. Recovering foot-in-the-mouth addict, indeed.

_Jesus, she may as well have balled my guilt up in her hand and slapped me with it._

"N-no," Acey replied slowly, "but I may have helped to precipitate it." Wincing, Acey arose and headed for the window. "I was going to sell myself out to Light: tell him who I was, my real name, and that I had enough evidence to convict him. If that wasn't enough to pressure him into writing my name down, then I was going to push him further and say I knew about the fake rules.

"Once I died, if Light was still alive, it would give L all the evidence he needed to nail him." Acey rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to quell her rattling body, as though battling a phantom draft. "It was the perfect plan. But before I could put it into action, Jaime rat me out to L."

She paused, narrowing her eyes into a toxic glare at the vast, bustling city-scape sprawled out before her. Jaime may not have been there to see it, but she knew he was sure to feel her fury as she spoke.

Acey collapsed to her knees front of the window, sobbing softly. "It was supposed to be my turn to save him. I owed him my life. It was only logical that I died for him when the time came, and I made it quite clear that I was more than willing to die for him in the end. I just—I just didn't expect things to go so horribly wrong…"

Erin spared only a moment or three to watch the girl in front of her break down, then drew the line when her ears bled from the sobs that rippled through them. Gingerly scooping up an anxious Wicked, she slunk off the couch to plant herself by Acey's side and place the cat between his master's knees. She could use all the comfort she could get. What a day this was turning out to be: two girls chasing after one another around a hotel suite in hopes of easing each other's pain that sprang from a common trauma.

…_you still have so much time ahead of you. Please make the most of it when you leave here. _

That gentle plea which had never left Erin's memory spurred her into action.

"That's not true."

While Wicked rubbed up against Acey, Erin's arms found themselves looped back around her. "Now, I'm not exactly the most logical gal you'll ever meet, but I can tell you for a fact that that's the dumbest, most illogical thing I've heard you say, up to this point. It being right for you to die, I mean." Her voice resonated strangely a bit stronger than before. And it built up another ounce for every word she said. "If anything would've happened to you…it would've defeated the purpose of everything he'd ever done for you, like saving your life."

_You hated to lose, no matter what the effort was. I never knew you that well, but I'm sure of that much. Damn sure. And so is your little ghost-gabbing friend, probably. _

"He didn't have to save your life, or take you under his wing. But he did. You don't pay back something like that by throwing away your life, even if it's for a noble cause. You honor it by making the most out of what's been graciously given to you. He wanted you to _live,_ Acey. He must've seen that you still had a chance to make something more out of yourself, and he let you do that by letting you keep your life for that much longer. Why he never seemed to value his own life that much, I can't say. Still trying to figure that out. But if you'd have gone through with your plan, that'd have meant that all the effort he'd put into you would be wasted. And he couldn't stand for that."

_You bastard…you were the only guy I know who could be so selfish and yet so generous at the same time, so consistently. _

She took Acey's fragile hands into her own shivering ones to fold them into a fist and press them against Acey's sternum, with the intent of bringing her heartbeat to attention. Acey gasped softly, tilting upward to look at Erin.

"You're gifted, kid. But if you didn't have _this_, you couldn't use any of your talents as you ought to. With every day you wake up, every breath you take, every case you solve, every haunt you put to rest, you're paying him back, little by little, in the way he would've wanted. What you got in there is a gift, Acey, a gift that he let you keep for so much longer. Consider it such, if nothing else."

…

"I should know," she whispered, feeling quite warm, for some reason, though much more on the inside than out. "I owe him, too. He wanted the same for me. And he probably wanted the same for Light, never mind if he couldn't help him. Do I still wish things could've ended differently? I do, absolutely. It's taken me a long time to come to terms with that myself—"

_And maybe I'm _still _coming to grips with it._

"…but I've been mulling it over for too long to believe otherwise."

Erin finished with a tighter embrace than all of the previous ones, in hopes of squeezing such ridiculous guilt out of the girl's soul, and perhaps some of her own, in the process. At the bare minimum, she prayed to every god that existed that Acey was listening.

By this time, Jaime had returned from Wammy's, having watched the exchange unfold. He had been about to step in and firmly backhand Acey for talking like she had, but Erin had beat him to the punch. Crossing his arms, Jaime leaned against the wall, letting her say her peace.

He smiled in spite of himself. _Hmph__. Perhaps__ I underestimated you, Blogger? _

With the exception of a few stifled sobs, Acey listened quietly. She had an oxymoron reaction: the more Erin spoke, the faster her tears fell, but at the same time, she could feel her heart becoming lighter with every tear she shed.

As the weight of Erin's words settled in, she stopped quivering and her tears slowed. Letting out a small, hiccupping sob, Acey threw her arms around Erin, hugging her just as tightly. "Thank you," she croaked, her voice hoarse from all of her weeping. She nestled her head in the crook of Erin's neck. "L was lucky to have you, no matter what you may think."

Jaime closed his eyes. _It seems that you've each managed to ease the other's pain. I never dreamed in a million years that you would the one to finally lay Lady Acey's guilt to rest. Surely, she has been able to return the favor. _

Pushing off from his place against the wall, Jaime cleared his throat to announce his presence. "My sentiments, exactly, Lady Erin," he said, finally addressing her with respect for the first time.

_L, I don't think there's need for you to worry about either of them, any longer._

Lady Erin? This ghost _was _trying to kill her. Just not in the way she'd expected.

Her first words to the phantom were baby-talk compared to her previous words: "Uh…Lady?" The warmth bled out into her cheeks. "W-wow. That's…a new one. Acey, your ghost-friend just called me Lady," she tittered. It continued to amaze her, how swift and drastic the mood of the atmosphere could change. Just about everything about life amazed her.

Covering her mouth, Acey giggled into her hand. When she lifted her head from Erin's shoulder, her smile was accompanied by genuine laughter. "Consider that a compliment."

Erin returned the smile with a sheepish grin of her own, not quite used to being given that title, especially from a ghost who hadn't liked her, just a while ago. Her focus fixed in the meridian between the girl in her arms, the ghost standing before her, and the black cat watching them all with his tail flickering in mild interest. "Hey, where've you been, anyhow? For just going to talk to Near, you were gone an awfully long time. Or is that classified?"

"That is classified. I was just giving her some time to cool off," Jaime replied, jabbing a transparent finger in Acey's direction. "She wasn't very happy with me when I left," he shuddered, having felt the full force of her glare on the way back. "Her wraith is a force not to be reckoned with, trust me."

"Wrath? I can't find a mean bone in her body, and we've in pretty close contact with each other for a while."

Erin paused. After her mentioning of this mysterious Near, something dawned on her.

"Um, about Near. If it's okay for me to ask…did you say anything about me? Hm, I would think so. He's not too, uhm, worried or pissed off, is he? About…you know?"

Since she asked, Jaime figured he might as well tell her. "I guess I can tell you this much, Near is awaiting your arrival, Lady Erin."

"Uh…my arrival? What do you mean?"

The corners of his mouth pulled up into a smirk as he gazed down at her. "Let's just say, he has an interesting proposal for you."

For some reason, Erin began to tingle, from the toes and fingers upward. She usually felt this way when a great story was in her hands…or when something awful would happen.

_Here it comes. I can feel the idea passing through her mind._

Acey laughed softly as a fond smile graced her pale, pretty face. _It figures that Near would know exactly what I was going to suggest ahead of time._

When she spoke, a mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. "Erin, I want you to come back to Wammy's with me."


	4. 00: 4

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). **

_**00-4**_

Such a great myriad of thoughts, feelings, body aches plagued Erin in that one moment, she couldn't respond to any of them except let them exist as she gaped at the paranormal trio, like a doe in front of three monster trucks.

After maybe a minute more, she—somewhat unconsciously—decided to play 'possum, an old habit that she could've sworn she'd outgrown before that point.

Acey's hazel eyes widened when her guest collapsed. She could've sworn her heart stopped in her throat. For one horrible second, she thought she was still working on the Kira Case, and that'd he'd discovered them somehow. Kira was as good as gone, but he'd left an everlasting impression.

"Oh, it seems I've overwhelmed her," Acey said as she carefully maneuvered Erin's head in her lap. "Erin? Erin, honey, can you hear me?"

Jaime rolled his eyes, suddenly remembering why he'd been so annoyed with Erin in the first place. "You see, m'lady, this is what I'm talking about. You are just like him. You say things and then expect people to just roll with them." Turning away from the girls, Jaime headed to the kitchen only to reappear moments later, a glass of water in hand. "Here, this should wake her up."

Acey swiftly grabbed the cup away from Jaime, knowing he'd enjoy dumping it on her far too much. "Sorry about this, babe." Once she'd whispered her apology, Acey proceeded to dump the contents of the glass on Erin's flushed face. A concerned Wicked only had seconds to dash out of the way as she sputtered and gagged back to animation.

Her fist balling up the fabric of her blouse over her chest, Erin blinked frantically to wipe the watery haze off the room and everyone present. Upon seeing Acey's face hovering over hers, she remained still for a moment or so to feel her heartbeat flutter against her knuckes and to collect whatever bearings she could reach before coughing up a mildly coherent response, "Wh-what happened? A…Acey? That you? How'd you get all the way up there?"

"You had a temporary loss of consciousness due to decreased blood flow to your brain," Acey explained, smiling gently at her. "In short, you fainted."

Jaime snorted into his hand, "You are doing it again, m'lady," he said, waving a towel above Wicked's head for him to paw at and play with.

"Hush, Jaime," Acey scolded. She brushed a few wet strands of hair out of Erin's face. "Are you all right?"

"I…think so," Erin groaned in reply, her knuckles rubbing away the sting of the light and the nip of the water that had revived her. "Nothing broken…except maybe my pride. But then, I've broken that so many times, it almost never even feels broken when it is, anymore. At any rate, correct me if I'm wrong, but just a while ago, I thought I just heard you say something about wanting to take me back to your place. Willy's, I think…no, _Wammy's_, that's it. I _must've _heard you wrong, _that_ time. I _must've_."

"I did."

"And Wicked and I can attest to it," said Jaime.

…

"Okay, I was gonna ask you to help me up, but don't bother. I'm just gonna faint, again," Erin deadpanned, after a long, uncomfortable pause. But she couldn't keep that tone for long, for she wasn't the deadpan-type, and now anxiety was starting to hold her by the collar of her blouse, once more, perhaps even panic. Oh, the madness!

"But…you can't be serious, kid. I mean, we just met and all, and even with all the soap opera stuff we've just been through, there's no way you'd trust me _that _much to go see the place where you grew up!"

…

"Do you? And Near—you gotta refresh my memory, here, I'm sorry—he would actually _allow _that? Either you guys really _are _trying to kidnap me after all, or…_ugh._" She couldn't finish her sentence with anything more coherent. Her head was unscrewing itself off of her shoulders.

Acey pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated and a little hurt. _All the information I've confided in her, and she still doesn't trust me. _

She bit her lower lip before she spoke, "That's the thing. I _do_ trust you that much. I knew I could trust you when you chose not to leave when I gave you a means to. I sincerely want you to come back to Wammy's House with me. I want to show you the only place I could ever call home. The closest place that L could call home.

"…And besides, if L could trust you, so can I."

Crouching down next to Erin, Jaime thought it was time to add his two cents. "Lady Erin, this is the first time I've ever seen m'lady react like this to someone. It took a long time for her to trust L. It also took her a long time to trust Near, and he is her _betrothed,_ for Christ's sake," Jaime explained, reaching out to poke Erin in the forehead, who was rattled to full consciousness at the chilling contact.

_Betrothed? She and Near are ENGAGED? But…she's just a kid. And so is Near, most likely. _Somehow, the idea of an engagement between these two reminded Erin of two kids playing an innocent game of house; it killed her. Though she dared not say it out loud. After all, perhaps this was part of the Wammy's culture?

"I did say that Near was waiting for you. He has an offer for you, one that will benefit all of us. The fact that you didn't leak anything to the media about L or about the Kira Case proves your trustworthiness enough," Jaime continued, handing Erin the towel to clean what water had seeped into her clothes.

_Hmph. Even if I _wanted_ to leak any information, I wouldn't be believed, anyway, _thought Erin with a slight twinge of bitterness that came about almost entirely on its own. Like the faint throb that came with prodding an old wound. She simply couldn't wrap her mind around the idea that these people would trust her so much, in so little time. It made her brain stretch as far as a rubber band.

Acey gazed down at Erin imploringly. "I promise you that there is no malicious intent of any kind behind my asking you to come back to Wammy's House with me. Have I given you a reason not to trust me, Erin?"

Just seeing the look on the girl's face made Erin feel like shrinking. She didn't want any more crying from either of them. They'd indulged in too many tears, already. "No. N-no, you haven't. I guess if you guys really wanted to hurt me, you'd have done it, by now. Especially when I—well, this is just so sudden. It's not every day that a girl gets wrapped up in stuff like this, you know? It hasn't been my experience, anyway."

_I…get to see where you grew up, L? I get to meet your…family? _

In a way, Erin wished that Jaime would poke her again. Maybe his touch would keep her from passing out, again? To be honest, she didn't know what to think of any of this. She felt so many things at once, she could hardly process any of them, much less vocalize.

Except, perhaps, the realization that even if she refused, she would still have to do it. Near's word—the word of the current L—commanded her to. She had been put on the spot.

She feebly twiddled her fingers on her stomach: an idle motion to keep herself anchored. "But if this _Near _wants to see me too, and he's L's stand-in like you said he is, then I guess I don't really have a choice but to go with you, do I?" she chuckled anxiously. "If experience has taught me anything, it's that resistance to authority is futile. Especially if it's L."

_What could Near possibly want with me? What is he even like? Is he like you, L?_

By that point, Erin had recuperated just enough to lift her head off of Acey's lap and prop herself up by the elbow. "But what am I going to tell my folks? I can't just drop everything and fly with you to—wherever the heck this place is, right this very second."

Acey's face lit up like a kid' on Christmas morning. "Aw, yay!" she cheered, hugging Erin. "I promise you won't regret it."

She furrowed her eyebrows upon breaking the embrace. Presenting an excuse of absence to parents was a foreign concept to her. Considering what her father's line of work had been, she'd rarely ever seen him to begin with, and telling her mother where she would be was the last thing she'd wanted to do.

"Hmm…I've never been in this situation before. Gimme a second to think," she replied, tapping her lower lip as she thought.

That only helped to make Erin feel all the sorrier for her. Hearing Acey admit that reminded her of the time when L had confided in her that he'd had no family to write home to. And she seemed so happy to have heard her consent to traveling with her, Erin couldn't find it in her to take it back. Perhaps she was—once again—getting in over her head, but since the wheels had really started spinning, there was no stopping them, now.

"How about this: you can say you're going to Winchester, England with a colleague. You're visiting the British Museum to 'get the scoop' on the debate concerning the return of their Parthenon statues to their native homeland in Greece. Would that work?" Acey asked, raising an eyebrow in question at Erin.

She watched the tiniest bead of sweat roll down the bridge of her nose before dangling on the tip before mumbling, "I…I guess so." If only lying was a vice that could be totally avoided, but such wasn't the way of the world. Then again, she would have had a far bigger problem with it if the lies didn't sound so much more credible than the truth.

"As for where you are getting the money for this, I'll pay for everything. I have the money to spare, trust me," Acey added as she got to her feet, even before the question had had the chance to cross Erin's mind. She yawned, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"Jaime, keep her company while I make a few calls. If she wishes to go home and pack some necessities before we leave tomorrow night, you are to escort her. Is that understood?"

"Yes, m'lady," Jaime mumbled to her back.

"Him? Escort _me?_" Erin sputtered, jabbing an incredulous finger in his direction. "What a hot one! Dude's a ghost, for crying out loud! My folks aren't exactly used to seeing your type around our neighborhood."

"Er, excuse me!" Jaime exclaimed, rolling his eyes as he reached out to poke Erin in the forehead again. "Nobody will be able to see me except for you. Sheesh, is your brain not working or something?" he said, speaking in a tone that suggested Erin had just said pigs could fly. "Just think of it as a date, though I doubt you even know what that is," he added, sneaking a glance at Acey outside.

_She'd chew me out if she hears me talking to her like this. _

Dizzy beyond belief, Erin rested her face in her hands, mostly to keep her blush to herself. She didn't really even know why she was blushing; out of embarrassment, most likely. "A date, he says! A date with a ghost? God, what a day this turned out to be! You're almost as bad as he was," she chortled, suddenly remembering the "double-date" she and L had once gone on with poor Light and Misa.

She stopped to hope that Misa was doing well enough for herself, wherever she was.

When she gathered just enough courage, she looked the ghost square in the eye…or at least, at the wall behind him. "PS: I could get a date, if I wanted to! I just…don't want to."

"Look, I didn't mean what I just said," Jaime continued, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. Really, he didn't mean it, because honestly, he thought Erin was kind of pretty. "Lady Acey is a very prominent figure in the underworld, so my escorting you is just a precaution. I don't like it any more than you do, but what she says goes."

_Once _he_ finds out Lady Acey has made a new friend, I have no doubts that he'll come around wanting to see what's up, especially when he finds out that she was connected to L. He may be dead, but he could still pose as a threat. And Lady Acey will kill me if anything happens to Erin on my watch._

Mewling loudly, Wicked rubbed his face against Erin's knees, and pawed gently at her thigh, begging to be picked up.

"So, are you going home first, or what?"

"Of course, I'm going home, first," snorted Erin, complying to Wicked's demand and lightly messaging the back of his right ear, earning a satisfied purr from the cat. "All my stuff's there."

Retrieving her cell phone from her back pocket, Acey slid the door open to the balcony connected to the room. Sighing softly, she lifted her face into the cool breeze of the night.

_Somehow, I can help but think that Erin and I meeting like this was somehow arranged by someone. Someone who was very concerned for the both of us._

…

After the girls had exchanged hugs and farewells for the evening, Erin was soon waiting at the front of the suite for a taxi, counting out her money to pay for the fare under the garish orange glow of the streetlight.

_Oh brother. What a day. Shinigami, killer notebooks, now _ghosts? _Not to mention, the whole Wammy's House thing. What next: vampires that sparkle in the sunlight? _

She couldn't even begin to describe how peculiar it felt to have a ghost waiting alongside her, a companion whom only she could see out of everyone wandering the streets. She'd realized long ago that had a knack of seeing what no one else would, in her own way.

_It's times like these that make me wish Matsuda were here. He was a lot more fun. And alive. _

…

_Huh. Wonder what he and the others are up to? Do they even know about Near's position as the current L? Probably. We're pretty much the only ones who know what happened to L-L. But maybe they wouldn't personally know Near…_

Realizing that these questions would not uncover their answers anytime soon—and perhaps neither later—she turned to her otherworldly escort and lowered her voice to a whisper as her mind switched to a more urgent worry: "You think I should pay the driver for two people? I mean, you're a ghost and all, but…it doesn't seem right to pay them for just one person. It feels like we'd be cheaping them out."

She paused upon realizing something else. "Why do you gotta go home with me, anyway? What about Acey? She's younger than me, for Christ's sake. Aren't you _her_ chaperone?"

"You can pay my way as a tip to him, I guess," Jaime shrugged. When a cab pulled to a stop in front of them, Jaime reached to open the door for her before he knew what he was doing. "Sorry, I would open the door for you, but, well, you know. I was raised to be a gentleman, believe it or not."

Jaime slid into the cab before Erin did, offering her his hand to help her into the cab. "You are right, she is my ward. But like I said before, my escorting is only a form of precaution, Lady Erin."

_Precaution against what, exactly? If I got mugged somewhere, it's not like he could fight the guy off…_

_Then again, all Rem had to do was write in her notebook to protect Misa. She was a shinigami. _

"I can already tell that m'lady is going to be protective of you. She's a good person to have on your side. She's fiercely loyal to the ones she treasures most in her life, and will do anything for them."

Had they not had an unsuspecting driver sitting just in front of them, Erin would've replied. Instead, she gave him the address of her parents' place. Until she had an income stable enough for a place of her own, she had had yet to fully detach herself from their resources, both in terms of finance and emotional support.

It killed her to hear that, all the same. _The ones she treasures most, huh? We just met for an interview, and she already thinks _that _highly of me? Wonder what the rest of her gang is like…what the rest of L's gang is like, I should say. _

Jaime turned to look out the cab window. Rain began to dot the glass, and gentle growls of thunder could be heard in the distance. Bright forks of lightning started to comb across the sky.

Turning to Erin, Jaime flashed her a smile that complimented his handsome face. "You've made Lady Acey really happy by agreeing to go back to Wammy's with her. I haven't seen her smile like that in a long time. I really appreciate it, Lady Erin. Nothing makes me more happy than to see her happy. As long as she is, then that's all that matters to me."

He was a ghost. Nothing else _could _matter to him.

"It would also make her happy if you came back to the hotel tonight after you finished packing. Lady Acey never really had a girlfriend to spend time with, so to speak. Most of the girls at Wammy's House avoided her. In their eyes, she was a dangerous freak of nature. L, Near, Matt and Mello were all she had for a long time."

_Mello and Matt…more protégés of yours, L? _

Erin clung to her seat belt strap like a lifeline. She could feel her senses tingling, no, _flaring_. Just how far over her head had she dove in?

Really, though, that was too bad. Once one got past the ghost thing and the other eccentricities, Acey seemed like an otherwise good person. Erin's nature wouldn't allow her to leave her in that suite on her lonesome.

_Guess I'll make something else up to Mom and Dad, then, huh? _

She made sure to leave the cab driver a hearty tip of twenty dollars along with the money for the fare when he dropped them off in front. She would need all the good karma she could get. Pulling her hat over her eyes to shield her face from the rain, she paused before opening the door.

"If I'm gonna stay with you guys, do you have a computer I can use? I still have an article to turn in tomorrow."

Normally, Jaime would've offered his jacket to Erin. Before he realized what he was doing, he actually started to take off his jacket. He couldn't stress enough that old human habits die hard after you died. Shrugging his jacket back onto his shoulder, Jaime turned to Erin and nodded.

"Yes. Lady Acey carries two laptops with her: one for work and one for leisure. She would be more than happy to lend you the one she uses for leisure. It should have the appropriate word processing program for you to type your article. If you don't mind, m'lady, I'd like to read the article when you are finished with it."

Erin's fingers had barely brushed the knob when she became flushed. _Oh, wow. Now he's calling ME 'm'lady?' _

Jaime was silent for a moment. There was a soft expression on his face as he regarded her. He let out a heavy sigh. "Hold on a minute, Lady Erin," He said, putting a hand on her shoulder. When she looked over her shoulder at him, Jaime continued: "I want to apologize for my rude behavior from earlier," he paused, bowing respectfully.

"Uh…no, it's fine. You didn't know me, I didn't know you. It was kinda inevitable. But now that we _do _know each other, let's just put that behind us."

"I wasn't sure that I could trust you with Lady Acey, yet. But after watching you with her this evening, I now know that I can indeed trust you with her."

A shy smile suddenly tugged at the corners of his mouth; were he still alive, a slight blush might've appeared in his cheeks. "You shouldn't sell yourself short either, m'lady. Forgive me if I come off a little too forward with my next statement, but if I were alive, I would surely ask you out to dinner and dancing."

She could barely help the shiver that danced down her backbone, and perhaps it wasn't simply because of Jaime's inhumanly cold touch. After all, it wasn't every day that a supernatural being came up to a girl and told her that. Somehow, it made her reminisce of the time when she'd asked L how much he actually liked her—Halloween, she could still remember—and how he'd answered with "Two percent."

L had been very fond of percentages. They were so easy to lie about.

Adjusting her hat, she only had this to say for the sake of keeping things friendly as she diverted her attention back to the door: "O…kay. Thanks, I guess."

Despite herself, Erin had to wonder when she crossed the threshold into her home if either Misa or Light ever felt this way when they'd been owners of Death Notes: having a supernatural being tag closely behind that only the person being followed was aware of. It made standing with mixed company—namely, her parents—horribly uncomfortable, especially when it clashed with her social instinct to introduce new friends.

With an arm wrapped around her, her mother cheered, "So honey, how did it go?"

Erin felt so out of it, she almost didn't know what she was asking. "How did what go?" she mumbled, trying so hard not to glance even once in Jaime's direction and feeling bad about it, all the same.

"Why, the interview, of course!" said her mother as they walked together into the kitchen where her father was hastily placing the milk back in the fridge before he could be caught drinking out of it.

"Oh, yeah. That. It was certainly an interesting interview, Mom."

_I met a girl who talks to spirits and comes from a place called Wammy's House and is a protégé of old L's and she and her friend Near who is the current L want to see me and have you met Jaime here he's her ghost-friend who wanted to take me home—_

"I would go into details, but I'd much rather write about it than just talk about it. That's my job, after all. You'll see my incredible story on the front page with everyone else in the city. Possibly the whole state. Maybe even the whole country."

_She isn't really exaggerating that, either, _Jaime thought as he lazily followed Erin into the kitchen.

"Are you okay, Erin?" her father asked, his thumbs twiddling in almost the same way his daughter did. "You look a little spaced out."

_You have no idea. _

"_Pfft. _I'm okay, Dad. I'm just trying to visualize my story in my head so I'll know what to put down as soon as I find a computer. Ah, that reminds me: I got handed another opportunity, today. A whopper."

It was times like these that made Erin wonder if she really ought to write for the cheesiest tabloid in New York. That way, she could say whatever she wanted, even if no one in their right mind would believe an ounce of it. The only thing holding her back from that plan, however, was her code of honor.

As Erin chatted with her parents, Jaime idly observed the activity going on around him. The air surrounding the Bloggers' household was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to what life had been like in Acey's household before she'd been liberated to Wammy's House.

The only atmosphere that had resided there had been one of pure terror.

The image of Acey hunkered down on the bathroom floor in a pool of her own blood, trying to swallow her sobs of pain as she pulled out the thick pieces of glass protruding from her arms was not an easy image to forget. He remembered how, despite the fact that he'd be standing guard outside the door, being ready to a lock it a moment's notice, she would scream in fright at the slightest noise, imagining her mother returning for her twice in the same night.

"Wow, Erin! The British Museum?" her mother exclaimed.

"You're not planning to pull an international heist, are you?"

"Aw, Dad, quit it! We're just gonna look into the debate over the Parthenon sculptures, is all. We're not doing anything dishonest," Erin giggled, inwardly cringing at the word "dishonest."

"But Erin, this all sounds so short-notice," said her mother. Perhaps she was worried about letting her daughter travel abroad again, considering what had happened on her first trip…or at least, what Erin had told her had happened. "I mean, England? That's a whole ocean away."

"So is Japan, Mom." Erin reached into the fridge to pull out the milk, while her other hand groped the inside of the cupboard for a glass. "I'll admit, I was a little taken by surprise, too. Amie had intended to go with another colleague of hers, but she pulled out at the last minute. I didn't want to leave poor Amie hanging. Besides, my passport's still good and Amie knows people over there. I'll be okay. And for the cherry on top, they speak English."

Had her brother Farley still been home, he might've butted in with something along the lines of, "How insightful, Captain Obvious."

Jaime snorted when he heard Erin's alias for Acey. She would definitely have wrinkled her nose at it.

Erin frowned upon pouring the pasteurized cow-squirt into her glass. "Dad, are you drinking out of the carton, again?"

"Of course not!" Mr. Blogger replied hastily, in a way that Erin couldn't decide was a joke or an honest asspull of an excuse. "It's probably that danged cat of yours. He's nowhere to be found. I personally find that a little suspicious. Just about everything about him is suspicious, really." Lawliet liked to hide in the secret nooks and crannies of the house, most likely to escape the constant racket that was the Blogger family.

_Well, I didn't name him Lawliet strictly on a whim. _

Mrs. Blogger, on the other hand, pressed a doubtful finger up to her temple. "I don't know, Erin: just how long are you going to be gone?" she asked, something that Erin had admittedly not seen coming in all of the excitement.

She had barely lifted the glass to her lips when she paused. "How long're we gonna be gone? Is that what you said?"

"I'm not senile yet, honey. Yes, that's what I said."

"Uh…"

She remained face-to-face with the fridge, unwilling to let either of her parents see her roll her eyes to find Jaime anywhere in the kitchen. Acey hadn't made any mentions about the duration of their jaunt to Wammy's. None that she recalled, at least.

Jaime swooped in to rescue her like a supernatural knight riding a white horse. It was so typical of Lady Acey to make plans without constructing a time frame.

Walking up to stand beside her next to the fridge, the tall phantom leaned down to whisper in her ear: "Would two and a half weeks suffice, Lady Erin? It would be completely up to you how long you want to stay at Wammy's, but what about two and a half weeks?"

In the company of her parents, she couldn't afford to shake her head in refusal. But two and a half weeks sounded kind of long for her, especially since she was about to travel to a place she had no solid knowledge of—nor did anyone on the outside, for that matter. If the place was an absolute madhouse—or even if it wasn't, she could never be sure—she wouldn't want to stay longer than necessary.

So Erin pursed her lips in response as her mind scrambled for a smaller figure. "A week," she surfaced with. "Just a week. Oh yeah, there's something else, too: Amie wants me to spend the night over at her place. So I gotta go pack."

Mr. Blogger perked up in very mild dismay. "Huh? Right now? But Erin, you just got home. And…what about your story?"

Erin took a much-needed gulp of her milk and wiped away the white mustache the clung to her upper lip with her sleeve. "Amie wants to go over the plans she's laid out for the trip, and also to save the effort of coming over to pick me up. Nutty girl reserved a flight for first thing in the morning; she's really hot about this. And I can't help but empathize with her sentiment. And don't worry about the article; I'll just work on it over at her place and E-mail it to Mr. Inkling. He said that was okay."

For some reason, her mouth felt as though it required mouthwash. Tubs and tubs of mouthwash. _I'm such a goddamn liar, I could make L or Light look like Honest Abe. _

She turned her head and grinned at them both as she rinsed the glass in the sink. "Really, Mom, Dad, it's okay. I've got everything all worked out. All you have to worry about is Lawliet. I mean, just for the week, and I don't think he'll be _too_ burdensome with me gone."

Mrs. Blogger's gaze seemed to darken from her point of view, as if to say, "Well, maybe you shouldn't have gotten a cat if you're going to be too busy to take care of him. We're not grandparents that you can just drop him on when it's convenient for you." But not terribly dark. The Bloggers were incapable of holding on to dark feelings for very long.

Ultimately, she sighed. After all, besides the current living arrangements, Erin was otherwise an emancipated adult. "Well, honey, if you've honestly got everything worked out, and you're absolutely sure about this, then I guess we can trust you not to get into any trouble."

"But we'll have the President's envoy on speed-dial, just in case," said Mr. Blogger.

"Dad!"

"And be sure to call whenever you can, if you _do _have a problem. And even if you don't." Erin's parents still loved to act as though she couldn't take care of herself. Not that she could actually blame them.

Besides, at least she had parents that cared. She knew people who hadn't even been _aware _of such a blessing.

As soon as she and her companion stalked down the hallway, she peered out of the corner of her eye to see Jaime smirking suggestively at her. "So, can I see your room?"

Only when she deemed it safe, did she grumble, "I thought you were a gentleman, dude. Please, I'm not in the mood." Horseplay was only enjoyable when one felt in the mood for it. She just wanted to get everything together and be out the door as soon as possible, though not without saying good-bye to Lawliet. If he'd allow her to find him, that is.

For that matter, Erin hadn't thought that ghosts were capable of enjoying horseplay. Though, she supposed, if shinigami liked to do it, what _wouldn't_, then?

…

Jaime's presence had been replaced by another entity. He sat perched on the couch, knees drawn to his chest, observing with a sinister smirk at how utterly vulnerable L's precious medium was, in a deep sleep with her head resting on her arm. She'd nodded off in front of her laptop, leaving him the chance to leave Acey a dead, bleeding mess before her party returned.

Still, he would have to pass up the delicious opportunity for the sake of curiosity.

Instead, the phantom decided to shake things up a little. With ambidextrous fingers, he unwound the gauze from around Acey's hand. Smirking wider, he dug his cruel fingers into the crescent-shaped wounds until fresh blood pooled from the tender scabs for him to dab onto his fingertips.

Hoping off the couch, he stroked his hand across the coffee table, smearing blood on its polished wood surface. Before he left, he decided to add one final touch. Dipping his fingers into the growing pool of blood in her palm like an artist dipping his brush in a palette, he smeared blood down Acey's neck and on her chest.

When he heard the footsteps and murmurs of Acey's lapdog and the object of his curiosity approaching the room, the phantom paused to admire his work for a moment before disappearing.


	5. 00: 5

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). **

_**00-5**_

Her bags crashed to the floor, nearly claiming all ten of her toes.

As if she hadn't felt horrible enough about leaving her folks on such short notice—with lies, no less—Erin felt as though she'd just walked onto the set of a horror flick shoot as soon as her mind could register the scene before her eyes. She could've sworn she lost a lung in the middle of the shriek that shred from her throat against her will. Why, she wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if she'd managed to make every ear in the building bleed.

As if there wasn't enough bleeding going on in front of her.

It took all of the will-power in her not to faint as she stormed over to Acey's slouched form, her nausea so intense that it felt as if her stomach were drumming on her palate, demanding release. That smell, that metallic odor which emanated from the red stains on the table…she never wanted to smell _that_, again.

Erin practically wailed the first words to come to mind into the girl's ear: _"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO IN HERE!" _

Just a while ago, Erin had made it clear to Acey that life was worth living. So she'd assumed.

_Somehow, you asked for this, Erin, _her inner pessimist reproached her. _You asked for it the second you chose to stay. _

For a second there, Erin no longer knew who she was enraged with: Jaime, Acey, or herself. _"You spend the whole time screwing around with me, and look what happened to the kid!" _

_Ugh, someone is screaming. Loud. They sound distraught, _Acey thought sleepily as the sound of Erin's shriek ate away the image of Near pressing up against her in the shower.

_Wait a minute, it sounds like Erin—_

Acey snapped awake and jerked to her feet so fast, she almost face-planted into the coffee table when she tripped over her laptop, which slid from her lap, falling to the floor with a clatter.

"What's the matter? What's going on, huh-huh-huh?" she asked, looking this way and that, her eyes darting around the room.

Sickened tears stinging her eyes, Erin dove for the girl before her head could make impact with the bloodied furniture, shivering violently against her as she took her marred hand into her own. Oh, the blood! How horrible it smelled up close. As she struggled to pick her up into the bathroom, she howled at Jaime between gags, _"You idiot, I told you it was a bad idea for you to go home with me! _What the hell were you doing in here, cuttin' yourself? And you call yourself a guardian!" She no longer knew who she was shouting at; all the blood staining her clothes as she began to lug Acey towards the bathroom made rational thought nearly impossible.

It reminded her of Light, on his death-day.

Wicked dove under the couch for sanctuary from the snafu, daring only to peer out from the shadows.

"Unhand her, this instant!" Jaime protested, following them as Erin brushed past him. Further protests went unvoiced, however, when he saw Lady Acey's eyes flash with anger. He winced.

Erin's words had stung, though. Did she think he didn't feel guilty that something had happened to his lady while he hadn't been here to protect her?

_She just said the wrong thing._

Yanking her elbow out of Erin's grasp, Acey swiftly grabbed the older girl's arm and forced her up against the bathroom wall. Pressing her body up against Erin's to keep her pinned against it with an arm braced above Erin's chest, Acey closed her eyes in an attempt to control herself as her body, too, began to quiver, with anger.

"Cutting myself?" Acey hissed in Erin's ear, slapping her free hand against the wall next to her head. "My mother used to cut my arms to ribbons! Having gone through that every day for a year and half, do you _honestly think I_ would cut myself?"

No. It wouldn't make much sense for her to subject herself to the same abuse her mother had before her. But if Acey hadn't done this to herself, who else could've? Not even Wicked would've made such a mess, if he was even that type of cat in the first place.

Erin squinted at the young prodigy through her tears. What a horror story she'd jumped headfirst into. "W-well, if you didn't do it, who else did? You can't tell me some other stupid ghost or something came in here and…and did this!"

In all of the excitement, she'd forgotten to admit no offense to Jaime.

…

"Can you?"

Had it been an ordinary intruder meaning Acey harm, it made no sense that they'd simply prick open the scabs on her palm and smear the blood all over her when they could've done so much more. But what _did _make sense? Erin just wanted to get the girl cleaned up as soon as possible. She had promised that she wouldn't regret accompanying her, and barely an hour after the fact…she _was._

Steeping back, Acey laid a feather-light hand on her cheek, feeling bad for her sudden burst of anger. "I'm sorry, babe," she apologized, caught some of Erin's tears on her thumb.

_Babe? But I'm older than her_, Erin thought in spite of herself. It simply killed her to hear a younger girl call her such pet names that were usually used in the other way around.

It was only then that the smell of blood assaulted the medium's nostrils. "W-what the heck?" She dashed over to the bathroom mirror to examine herself better. Sure enough, she discovered the source of the smell smeared on her neck and chest.

After standing there thinking, perplexed and dumbfounded, she turned to Erin. "Actually, I think I have a pretty good idea of who did this, or more accurately the entity that did this."

"Oh, really? Well, you can just tell me all about it while we get you cleaned up. I can't carry a conversation very well when the other person's all…_ngh, _bloodied up. I have my limits, after all," Erin gulped, already disliking the direction this was going, to say the least.

"Very well," Acey replied, furrowing her eyebrows as she slid open the shower curtain. She knew very well who had done this, and she was only going to tell Erin the bare minimum. There was no way she was going to be straight with her about him, yet. She would leave her for sure, if she did.

Acey wasn't going to lie about him, just sugarcoat him. Really, _really_ sugarcoat him.

"You can shower with me, if you don't feel like waiting," Acey said as she stepped into the tub and closed the curtain behind her. Hanging her clothes over the shower curtain rod, she turned the water on and adjusted the temperature to her liking.

"No, no, I can wait," sputtered Erin, somewhat amazed at the expansion of Acey's comfort zone. Just what were these Wammy kids like? Keeping her eyes focused on the wall in an attempt to spare them, she pinched the soiled clothing between her thumb and index finger. Almost in the same way _he _used to handle things.

She called out from beyond the door with a cringe, "Yo, Jaime! Can ghosts do laundry? I sure hope so!"

"Yes, m'lady. I can wash yours and Lady Acey's clothing after you finish showering," Jaime replied. Putting his back to the door, he felt apprehensive. Now that _he_ had made an appearance, Jaime knew he was going to have to be on his toes when they returned to Wammy's. Both girls were under his protection, and Jaime would to be damned if he let _him _lay a finger on either of them.

"The entity that created this mess used to be a resident at Wammy's House," explained Acey over the roar of the shower. "I met him briefly, but he left the orphanage to…pursue other things, before I could get to know him well enough." She hoped that would satiate Erin's curiosity enough, until they got Wammy's at least. Acey knew his meeting with Erin was unavoidable.

_I'm just relieved he decided to fuck with me first, instead of her._

Erin was almost too afraid to ask what hobby this "entity" had gone out to pursue. "What happened to the guy? He's dead, isn't he? Now he's some k-kinda vengeful spirit or something?" An even more terrifying thought: what if he came back?

"Well, if you didn't know him all that well, why would he wanna…?"

Erin wondered what made a potent ghost-repellant. Vampires had garlic and crucifixes, werewolves had silver bullets…perhaps vacuum cleaners would work?

Oh, why couldn't the dead just stay dead? Even if their undead-ness benefited detectives like Acey…

Wincing, Acey hung her head. The warm water beating down on her body soothed her anxiety as she considered her answer. "Yes, he is dead. He blamed L for his friend's suicide. His bitter feelings towards L kept him bound to earth after he died." She paused to clean some blood missed on her chest, and watched as the drain greedily devoured it like a crimson-tinged whirlpool at her feet.

_There is so much more to this story, I just can't tell you right now. If I did, you would run screaming from me, and I…I don't want you to leave me._

A lump gathered in her throat, and tears threatened to well in her eyes at the thought. A long moment passed before she spoke again. "Anything of interest to L was of interest to him. The day we met, he tried to drown me in the bath tub. In his eyes, since L took something precious away from him, he would take something precious away from L. I wouldn't put it past him to try and kill me again one day."

_There, that should be enough to satisfy her._

Quite the opposite, actually.

"He tried. To drown you. In the goddamn tub. Oh my God. Oh, sweet uncle of God," Erin moaned, resting her forehead against the threshold of the door. She banged her head against the wall several times to fight the urge to faint: a little misused physical pain to keep her conscious. This guy could make a shinigami seem so cuddly, from Acey's description of him.

"I can't believe you sound so used to stuff like this. I just can't."

There seemed to be quite a few skeletons in the closet at Wammy's…in _L's_ closet…

And these two were planning to _take _her there, first thing.

But if this begrudging ghost wanted to try to finish what he'd started…why hadn't he? He'd had the chance; why hadn't he taken it?

Unless…

Erin's voice barely rose higher than a whisper as she groped around for the toilet, desperate for a place to sit. "He's after something else, this time. Isn't he?"

As much as she knew it would do her no good to cry about it, she could feel the frightened tears prod through her reddened corneas. Erin rested her head in her trembling hands, messaging craters into her temples as she stared down at the condensation on the tile floor.

She wondered how much this guy knew.

"It's not fair," she squeaked. "I hate to be a whiner, I-I really do, but it's not fair! It's not fair that he has to bother _you _all the time over some grudge he has with L, but he doesn't even know _me_. Probably. And _I_ didn't even know he existed until just now!"

_How the hell do I get into these messes? _

_You don't know when to back off, that's how. _

Sensing her fear, Acey poked her head out from behind the curtain. Frowning, she reached behind her and turned the water off before she grabbed a towel off the rack. Wrapping it around herself, she stepped out of the shower and walked towards Erin. Moisture from her wet hair dripped onto Erin's shoulders as Acey leaned down to hug her.

"Please don't be afraid," she whispered, resting her cheek on top of Erin's head as she held her close. "While we are at Wammy's, I promise I'll protect you with my life. I'll die before I let him harm you. And Jaime will be there, too. I don't think his intention is to kill you. If he wanted to, he would've jumped on the opportunity when he had it earlier, when you were out of my sight. You aren't a medium. Once my aura fades from your skin, you won't be able to see ghosts, and he'll lose interest. To him, it won't be any fun if you can't see him. He's just curious, is all."

_Curious? About what? I'm not sure if I really want to know, though…_

"Also, don't bang your head on the wall. It's not good for you. It can cause loss of concentration, difficulty sleeping, depression, frequent headaches, and a lack or decrease in appetite, among other things." She explained this as though she'd read it straight from a medical encyclopedia in an attempt to ease Erin's apprehension.

"Please, please don't leave me," she added vehemently, in an almost inaudible whisper.

In spite of herself, a weak chuckle managed to shimmy out of Erin's throat. A chuckle of anxious and melancholic humor. "You really _are _his protégé, kid. You sound just like him, almost. He used to tell me that a lot, too, not to bang my head, I mean. Mostly because it was 'obnoxious.'"

She placed a hand on the back of the younger girl's neck. This child, protecting _her. _That killed her to think about it. "Don't worry. I won't leave. Even if I wanted to, it's not like I can."

Indeed, she couldn't. Erin was too deep into this, now. She had already bade her folks good-bye with her lies, and even if she did go back home, he'd probably just follow her and do her in there. And the last thing she wanted to do was bring back another ghost to her poor, innocent parents. A psychotic one, at that.

And that excluded the matter of Near's request to see her.

Erin decided that they'd cross those bridges when they got to them (and hopefully, come out of it in one piece). But for the moment—

"You guys have coffee? I'm gonna need a pot or two if I have any hopes of writing and sending my story."

…

What on earth was she going to say? Having scrubbed herself clean and changed into her PJs, Erin's sore eyes burned holes into the word processor in front of her, dizzy from the distant residual scent of blood and of the day's events in general. What a conundrum: to have such tremendous stories on one's hands, and yet to have nothing at all.

She sipped her second mug, the scorching of her throat by the diluted substance doing little to align her thoughts. What _was _she going to say? Certainly not that the evasive sleuth behind the Dragonfly case was actually a young girl who could gab with ghosts. Who was a student of the late world's greatest detective, at that.

_Why me? _

"Out of all the members of the press, why me?" she mumbled to herself, not exactly expecting an answer.

Acey was lying on the couch adjacent to her, her legs tucked neatly beside her as she watched Erin write. Biting her lower lip, she traced the rim of her hot chocolate mug—she preferred that over coffee—with her index finger, and stared down into the brown, sugary liquid. Wicked relaxed on the arm of the couch beside her, sprawled limp across it like a black, furry doily.

"Erin?" she asked softly, not looking up from her mug. "You don't regret coming here to interview me, do you?"

She began to twist her engagement ring around on her finger, bracing herself for her new friend's answer.

"Huh? What?" Fingers curled frozen in mid-type, Erin peeled her eyes off of the screen to glance at Acey. "Do I regret coming to interview you? Is that what you said?"

She scratched the back of her head, trying to figure out how to be honest without being hurtful. "Well, I…I sure hadn't expected any of this when I first came here. But none of this is your fault, anyway, so don't go thinking that it is. I'm just…"

_Scared. For me, you, my family and yours. Of all the truths I'm uncovering and all the lies I'm weaving to cover them up again. _

"I'm just kinda overwhelmed, right now. I haven't been in a situation like this since I got tangled up in the…you know. We just gotta roll with the punches, huh?" she chuckled meekly. "I am a little surprised that you don't seem to see me as a liability. Or Near, apparently. Or does he?"

Acey stretched out on her stomach and sighed. Resting her head on her arms, she turned her head away from Erin.

_And we're back to this again._

"I would've known a long time ago, before I even met you, if you were a liability. If you truly were a liability, you would've wrote down everything I've said about my past, Wammy's, Near, and L. You would've just left me without making any attempt to comfort me while I fell apart and used your story to crucify me to the media. The fact that you are at a loss as to what to write is proof of otherwise.

"And you would've sold L out a long time ago. What a triumph that would've been for someone of your craft, exposing L and his prodigy for everything they were. It would've been the story that set the stability of your career in stone."

Sensing his master's distress, Wicked mewled softly, and hoped off the arm of the couch to crawl under her arm. Acey pulled Wicked against her chest, burying her face in his fur as salty tears dotted her eyelashes. Scooping him up into her arms, she arose from the couch, stroking his fur to conceal her trembling hands. She paused in the hallway.

"…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I'm investing a whole world of trust in you because I know I can. I told you things about me that only two people know, and one of them is dead. I'm taking you home to meet my family…L's family. The least you could do is meet me half-way and trust me, even if it's only a little bit. If you wish to just leave, and forget about me, I wouldn't blame you.

"I'm going to bed now. I'll leave you to your own devices. Goodnight, Erin." Shutting the bedroom door softly behind her, Acey crawled into bed, burrowing deep under the covers as a few tears trickled down her cheeks.

_What a fool I was, thinking I could make a friend. A friend I could confide in outside of Wammy's. I should've known better than to cling to her because of her connection to L._

Jaime had watched the exchange from his place perched on the kitchen counter. His eyes darted between Erin and the hallway Acey had disappeared down, deciding it was best to just leave her alone for a while.

Erin would end up stumbling down that hallway just minutes later, raking exasperated hands through her braided hair, long since disheveled.

She rapped her knuckles against the door. "Hey. Hey, Acey. Didja fall asleep, yet?"

She ventured to crack the door to peek into the pitch darkness of the room, barely able to distinguish the girl's reclining silhouette among it. "I wish you'd quit doing that. Making me feel guilty and whatnot. It's like I said in the bathroom: I _can't _leave. I almost broke my neck making up something for my parents so I could be here, and now I'm breaking my neck trying to make up something for this lousy article. Like you said."

_She's definitely one of yours, L. I haven't met someone this childish since you. Someone who's had this affect on me…_

_Is the rest of your crew like this? _

Brushing her tears way with the back of her hand, Acey turned on her other side to face Erin, cuddling Wicked's warm body against her chest. She looked away from Erin guiltily for a moment. How childish she'd been. Wicked poked his head out from under the covers to peer at Erin, mewling in approval, relieved that they were making up. He didn't like his two favorite girls to be upset with each other.

"It won't be lousy," she said stubbornly, looking back up at her. "I'm sorry I acted so childish just now."

Throwing back the covers, Acey sat up in bed, smoothing out her black camisole and boy shorts. The camisole complimented her slender figure well. She smiled somewhat. "Near doesn't want anyone seeing me in this outfit but him," she said, winking at Erin as a blush flooded her cheeks.

"_Gah!" _

She ducked behind the door. "Well, I'm not Near, last I checked! You could've warned me, y'know!" She wondered for a moment just how seriously Acey and Near took this game of theirs.

Assuming that it was, in fact, a game…

Acey fell back onto the bed in a fit of giggles. "Oh Erin, that was adorable!"

Erin waited for a moment or two to collect herself. They were both female, after all. She would imagine that their plumbing be essentially the same. "W-well, at any rate, you're forgiven. I'm not exactly the most mature gal, either. So, we're cool, then? If you still wanna go to bed, you do that. But I still got work to do. I've only got so much midnight oil to burn."

_And a ghost to watch out for…_

"G'night, Acey! G'night, Wicked!"

_You can think of something, Erin. If nothing else, you used to be notorious for your hyper imagination. Even if it can't quite compete with your reality, sometimes…_

"M'kay, night, Erin!" Acey blew a kiss before burrowing back down into the covers, cuddling Wicked against her.

_She'll fit right in at Wammy's, I know it._

Jaime looked up at Erin when she came back into the living room, a sheepish hand rubbing the nape of her neck. He smiled a bit sheepishly in return before he spoke. "Forgive Lady Acey, she can be a bit overwhelming, sometimes."

Erin snuck a cautious glance back behind her. "Yeah, I—she's pretty precocious for a kid, isn't she? Hope you don't mind me saying."

He cast a wary eye around the hotel room, pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd be pulling a double-shift tonight. He'd sit and watch over Erin all night, or at least until she finished her story.

"No need to worry. I'll be out here with you all night. So, if you have something on your mind, you can, you know, talk about it with me."

"Thanks. That means a lot, you don't even know. Or do you? Well, anyway, I just need to figure out what the hell I'm going to say about Acey without…you know, actually saying anything about her. The rest will come to me easily if I can just get a general idea." She plopped back down on the couch and resumed combing out her loosely hanging hair with her fingers.

Rolling her eyes toward the shadows slinking across the ceiling, she began to brainstorm aloud: "I could say that somebody who knew the killer decided to step forward and tip her off. I mean, I wouldn't _really_ be lying, because that's kinda what happened, right? I just don't say that it was the ghost of one of the victims. Then maybe, I'll slip a little alias and asterisk in there, to protect the lady's identity…it was a lady-ghost, right? Back me up, Jaime, old buddy, old pal."

Erin was too nauseous and achy to consider the fact that she'd just called the phantom guardian "old buddy, old pal."

"Yes, it was a woman. Her name was Kate. Every spirit who wants to see Acey has to go through me first, naturally."

_Yeah, except that one crazy one, apparently. _In a rare show of prudence, she bit her tongue, regardless of how much it would've mattered if she did.

"I remember when she came to me. She was so desperate. I just couldn't turn her away because she was hurting the same way you and Lady Acey were hurting," said Jaime, peering at her from underneath his brown bangs.

"You want to know what's almost hysterical about this whole thing? The one who referred her to Lady Acey was the very same one who smeared her own blood all over her."

Erin jerked up like a squirrel. "Say what?"

…

"O—kay. That's a…nother part that's definitely not showing up here." What _was_ his problem, anyway? For now, though, Erin could only be grateful to have the meager fortune of not having to meet this maniac in the flesh.

"But enough about this for a moment because I want to tell you one thing." He waved a wispy finger in Erin's direction.

"When you see him, please keep in mind that looks can be deceiving. I would hate for you to mistake him for…"

He trailed off, looking away from Erin hastily.

"…someone else."

Someone else? Erin couldn't imagine her mistaking the maverick spirit with anyone she ever knew. Even if they had never met in life, she bet that she could name him as soon as she saw him…whatever his name was supposed to be.

He waved his hand as if to dismiss what he'd said as a casual remark and nothing more. "Anyway, what you plan to do with this story is fine. Thank you for wanting to protect Lady Acey. L would've wanted it that way. Whether m'lady realized it or not, he was protective of her, in his own way. You should've seen him when he picked her half-dead out of snow, that night. He cradled her against him, and wouldn't let anyone touch her unless it was absolutely necessary."

He laughed softly, "I think he was compensating for something he never had."

_Something he never had…_

She managed to type a brief paragraph's worth when a thought came to her.

"How long've you two been a pair, anyway? I get it if it's classified, but how long've you known each other? I would guess that you showed up after Acey ran away from home, right? And her mother?"

Jaime shook his head. "No, not quite. I was there long before her mother went insane." Insane was putting it quite lightly. "The only thing I wanted to do was watch her, or more accurately, I was _only_ _allowed_ to watch over her from afar. The Council blew a fucking gasket when I broke the rules and interfered, the night Acey ran away. Truthfully, I saw L coming a mile away."

Erin gulped. _Even GHOSTS have their own realm…their own rules…maybe it really is a small world, after all? _

Leaning back against his hands, he tilted his head up towards the ceiling. "I broke the rules, the night Acey was supposed to die. It was the way they looked at each other when they passed each other in the small sweets shop. L noticed her arm was bleeding at the same time I did. She heard us both point that out to her, but she turned her head and addressed me first to thank me out loud. When Lady Acey looked to L, he was looking at her with an intense curiosity. His eyes said, 'There is something peculiar about you.' Her eyes said, 'Yeah, it's exactly what you are thinking.' I panicked that night and thought that maybe his curiosity would be enough to save her. I pushed her just before she collapsed outside his hotel."

Erin could feel her heart crumple into a paper ball in her chest. She had encountered something like what Jaime was relaying, before. She once knew a shinigami—the term "knew" used loosely—who cared so deeply for a certain human girl that Erin also had known, that she sacrificed herself in an attempt to save her from L. Her efforts had reduced her into a sandbox's worth.

_Misa, wherever you are, please don't let Rem's sacrifice go to waste. _

"W-wow, really? I'm surprised these guys didn't turn you into sand or something."

Jaime looked back at her. "I got into quite a bit of trouble. But you want to know what was very ironic? I'm sure you've heard of Luca Marseille, the notorious mafia leader, right?"

"I…I know him only by his notoriety. So do a lot of folks around here, I figure."

"L was looking to catch him at the time, but he ended up finding his daughter instead."

…

Well, there was something _else _not going into the paper.

Erin's fingers instinctively curled into tight fists. "I'm sorry, could you run that by me, again? I thought I heard you say that that girl snoozing down the hall is old Marseille's daughter. His _offspring._"

She collapsed spread-eagle on the couch in a flash. It would just be one nut-cracker after another for her, wasn't it? Unable to scream—and perhaps it was better that way—she croaked, "Goddamn it, why'd you have to tell me that? I didn't ask you to tell me that, did I? Great, simply _sensational! _Now I gotta worry about Near, Mr. Inkling, Whatshisface, and the _mafia_, too? Not the mafia! Anyone but them! Oh God, they're looking for her, aren't they?"

"Sheesh, you have a flare for dramatics, don't you," Jaime scoffed, rolling his eyes as he slid off the counter. Honestly, he wasn't used to seeing anybody act this way. He was used to kids younger than Erin not even batting an eyelash at danger.

"It is possible, yes." He leaned over Erin on the couch. "But look at it this way: Luca Marsielle was a very, _very_ frightening man. Do you honestly think anyone would be stupid enough to come after his daughter?" He poked Erin in the forehead a few times for good measure, which earned a prompt wave from her, as though she were shooing away a fly. "And besides, Luca Marsielle's daughter died outside that hotel room that night. She became Lady Acey of Spades, the second L saw the Ace of Spades card fall out of her back pocket.

"At any rate, you can pretty much cross the mafia off your list of unnecessary worries, Lady Erin. Most of Mariselle's gang died, including Luca, when Kira emerged. I doubt there are any survivors. That, and Wammy's House goes to great lengths to hide the real identities of everyone they take in."

"Really? Coulda fooled me. You guys seem to have this thing where if you find somebody trustworthy, you tell them everything, even the stuff they _don't want_ to hear."

"Still though," he continued, pausing to smile somewhat fondly as he brushed a stray bit of hair out of Erin's face, "I've seen her act every bit like her father's daughter on a few occasions."

They acted as if they went through this, every day. These folks couldn't _possibly _be so used to danger in _these _quantities, could they? Even if they did know L…

Jaime's gesture swept across her face like a brief burst of cold. "O-oh, yeah? You mean like in how she handles you? If I didn't know better, I'd say she had you on a leash. But for ghosts. A ghost leash." She stopped to message the bridge of her nose.

What a week this was going to be.

"T-that's not true!" Jaime snapped, looking away from her to hide the flush coating his cheeks. It felt odd. It had been a long time since someone made him blush, and make him feel flustered with a simple comment.

"I was raised to act that way towards a woman. I lived and died in the Medieval Era. I thought that much would've been obvious. And Lady Acey, she…she's special to me. Death is very lonely, Lady Erin, especially when you are a wandering spirit bound to earth. I can't even begin to tell you how good it felt for someone to actually see me. It…it made me feel human, again." His tone was soft and his eyes were sad.

But he was actually enjoying talking with her like this.

"Whoa. Medieval Era, huh? That must make you _centuries_ old, then, doesn't it?" Erin marveled and pitied at the same time. "Why can't your spirit rest in peace? Doesn't it bother you that it can't? I mean, besides the part about being totally invisible to the living and all? Do you hold a grudge against somebody, l-like Whatshisface?" That was the name Erin had decided to christen the psychotic spirit she hoped they would not encounter again anytime in the near future (though never would be miles better).

It was a long moment before he spoke again.

"You shouldn't worry so much about going to Wammy's, m'lady. When the time comes, Lady Acey will take care of you, and you'll do the same for her. So just relax, okay?"

Jaime suddenly tilted his head in the direction of the hallway. "She's dreaming," he murmured.

…

_The crisp air of fall hung in the air. Mello had gotten a bunch of kids together for a baseball game. Acey had somehow gotten Near to come out and play, and to even pitch for the opposing team._

_Grabbing a bat, she stepped up to the plate, flashing Near a mischievous smile. "Come on, Near, pitch the ball," she challenged, pointing the bat straight ahead, signaling that she would indeed hit a home run._

"_Yeah, Near! Don't pitch to her underhand just because she's a girl, you fucking pansy!" Mello shouted from his place on second base._

_Ignoring Mello, Near reluctantly threw the ball. It connected against Acey's bat with a loud crack. Acey took off, sprinting around the bases as the ball soared towards the home run zone. Just as she was rounding towards third base, she jerked to a stop when a new, but not unfamiliar voice called, "Out."_

_Whipping her head around, she saw L standing in the outfield with his arm straight in the air, the ball neatly cupped in his hand._

Acey's eyes snapped open. "L, you fucking jerk, catching my home run ball like that," she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

Her heart began to writhe as she turned onto her other side, clutching Wicked a little tighter against her. She wished she could've stayed in the dream a little longer, where things were the way they used to be.

…

In the living room, Jaime winced and hung his head. He hated it when her heart ached like that.

Erin had noticed his silence. She couldn't stand silence, especially not of this variety. It only helped to feed her mounting anxiety—still pretty well-founded, in her opinion, no matter what her new acquaintances said otherwise. "What's wrong? Something the matter with Acey? I'd guess that you guys share quite a profound connection. Sort of an E.T.™-type thing, right?"

Jaime shook his head, more so to clear it than anything. "Not necessarily. Being acutely attuned to emotion comes with being a spirit. She was just restless, for a second there. Lady Acey is among her memories. For the moment, at least."

_She still misses L so much. And she always will. L was completely floored when he realized someone loved him fiercely enough to die for him._

"It was an accident. How I died, I mean," he added, a flicker of a smile on his lips once again. "Thank God it wasn't because of some cliché like unrequited love or some shit of that sort. Someone mistook me for someone else and bashed my skull in. It was my confusion that bound me to earth. I was just walking along and the next thing I knew, I was dead."

A sharp wave of nausea sunk Erin deeper into the couch. How disturbingly easy it was for lose something so precious as life, since the dawn of life itself.

"I wandered the earth for centuries, disoriented. Then, I happened upon one of Marseille's hideouts. I'll never forget what went on there. All I could was stand there, riveted as he shot one of his subordinates in the head in front of his own daughter, not even batting an eyelash when she got sprayed with blood."

Jaime shivered. Even to this day, the memory gave him chills. He wasn't the only one shivering. Erin had to fight back a gag before chunks could fly across the table.

"I was so shocked when she reached out for me. I took her into my arms as she sobbed like it was the most natural thing. Lady Acey helped me understand that I was dead, and offered to put me to rest. I think you can guess the rest."

"Sh-she's still trying, isn't she?" asked Erin, once she could swallow down the chunks and speak again. She rubbed the back of her throbbing head. "Oh, wow. Gosh, that's…I'm really sorry, Jaime. Wish there was something I could do to help, but…I'm not a medium, and I wasn't around during that era, so…hm." That was the trouble with bleeding hearts. When one felt so sympathetic towards everyone they met, they felt hopelessly compelled to help them despite knowing that they couldn't, nor would it have been good to get tangled up in others' hang-ups. That'd always been Erin's experience, at least.

Not sure what else to say, she dove back in to work. Perhaps another mug of coffee would settle her stomach?

_Little kids shouldn't have to go through shit like that. _

"Shouldn't you go check in on her?"

"Your compassion is very much appreciated, Lady Erin, but I refused her offer more than once a long time ago. I have no desire to leave her side."

Really? Erin couldn't imagine what ghost in their right mind wouldn't want their spirit to be put to rest, but then, who was she to judge?

"Now if you'll excuse me," he said with a bow, "I'm going to check on her now. You'd best be getting to bed as well, m'lady."

"Uh, yeah, I will. Just gotta wrap this up and put a bow on it. Thanks, at any rate. For, you know…everything."


	6. 01: 1

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). **

**Hey! "Story Of The Century" is MY fanfic! Gosh, thank you, Incognito! I'm flattered. Oh, and thanks for recommending "Bitter Strawberries"! I've subscribed to it, now. **

_**01-1**_

"You got a paper bag? I—I really need a paper bag; I don't want to be hyperventilating all over the place when we meet you-know-who."

The following evening had fallen like an Acme™ anvil over Erin's head, it seemed. Inadequate sleep had left her queasy, sore, and a bit paranoid as she watched purple and green blotches flit from boarding gate to boarding gate. Like ghosts.

Her baggage trembled in her hands as she surveyed the hustle 'n' bustle going around the group, which she wouldn't have minded quite as much had it not been for the fact that—well, they had a _ghost _with them, for starters. For some reason, it made her stomach lurch to see a businessman raving on his cell phone as he passed straight through Jaime's form, utterly oblivious in more ways than one.

Acey's mood was the polar opposite of her companion's. Her hazel eyes shined and there was a bounce to her stride, which made Jaime frown when he caught two teenage boys ogling the way her hips swayed.

"Home, home. I'm going home," she sing-sang, balancing Wicked's carrier in her other arm as she hoisted her carry-on bag higher up on her shoulder. Smiling reassuring up at Erin, she put her free arm around her shoulders. "Oh, please don't hyperventilate. You'll stretch his ego."

"Who's ego?"

"Ms. Marseille! Ms. Marseille!"

Acey didn't turn her head at first when she heard her calling. It had been so long, _too_ long since she'd been addressed like that. Her real name was completely foreign to her, now.

"Ms. Marseille, please wait!"

Erin shot up like a sentry prairie dog. They had just found seats in the discreet corner of their boarding gate when she heard the new voice. "Wh-who's that? Oh crap, is somebody looking for you, kid?"

When she finally realized someone was indeed calling out to her, Acey cringed upon hearing her last name. "I really, really wish she wouldn't go screaming my last name out loud like that. He may already be dead, but one way or another he will die for telling her my real name," she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose as she turned to meet the pretty ghost-woman darting through the airport crowd towards her.

_Oh. Just another ghost friend of hers. _Erin was unsure whether or not to be relieved. Frankly, she didn't like hearing the name Marseille out loud either. Mostly because of its connotations to the girl's alleged crime-boss of a father.

"Oh, I'm so glad I caught you before you left," Kate said, brushing her long brown hair out of her face as she beamed at Acey.

"Stop Kate, please, it's not necessary for you to—"

Kate was already bowing. "I just wanted to say thank you. It's because of you that my girlfriend and I, as well as the others, can find peace. Please, take care of yourself, Ms. Marseille."

"Acey," Acey corrected, gritting her teeth. Oh yes, she was definitely going to have a little chat with him when she got back.

"Right, I'm sorry," Kate smiled apologetically before she turned to Erin. "And thank you, Ms. Blogger, for everything you've done for Acey. It distressed me when I felt her pain. It's because of you that her heart is lighter. You have my gratitude."

Oh, so _this _was the distressed spirit she had been told about, the one who'd helped Acey solve the case. As much as she hated unresponsiveness, Erin dared not open her mouth to utter a sound. Her throat had become as dry as the paper bag she was craving. It would look awfully strange to reply to a being that no one else could see while out in public.

She managed a gulp, a sheepish grin, a polite nod, and a tip of her hat. What was _wrong _with her? Besides everything?

Jaime stepped forward, deciding to cut their pleasantries short for Erin's sake. "I'll meet you two at Wammy's. Now, if you'll excuse me, ladies, I'll escort Ms. Vogel out of the airport." With a humble bow, he departed with Kate in tow.

If Erin was self-conscious about answering a spirit in public, Acey at that moment, wasn't, yet. "Hey! If you see him, tell that bastard Backup I'm looking for him! Make sure you word it that way exactly!" she shouted, shaking her fist.

_B_-_Backup? Who's that? _A shiver tiptoed down Erin's spine upon hearing that name. She pulled her hat even farther over her face until the seams were close to splitting.

When she saw several people stare at her like she had two heads, Acey blushed and sat back in her chair. Setting Wicked's carrier between her feet, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Sighing, she hung her head. She remained like that like she was waiting for something.

Waiting for something that would never come again.

"Oh. That's right," she murmured. "He isn't here to pat my head anymore when I make a jackass out myself by yelling at a ghost in an airport."

_Is she talking about L again_, Erin wondered. She dared only to peer out from under the brim of her hat, feeling slightly more confident to have it over her head, and said in her most even voice, "Okay, folks, there's nothing to see here. She's just horsing around on the phone."

Poor kid. Maybe she should…

Erin stretched out a cautious hand to cup the younger girl's shoulder, hoping that it would make a suitable substitute to a pat on the head. Leaning over towards her ear, she whispered, "Uh…wh-who's Backup?"

A vague but toe-curling tingle coursing through her warned her about that name—or alias, as it more likely would've been—but that didn't mean she shouldn't have made sure, anyway.

"Calling him that was actually a cheap shot. Now I have to tell you a few things before he can use them against me or you. Please keep your reactions to the things I tell you to a minimum. To everyone else here, we are just two silly girls sharing secrets, all right?" Acey leaned in close to Erin to make sure she wouldn't be overheard.

Dubious of where this was going, Erin took a deep breath and nodded. Why was she telling her all of this, now? Then again, what else could she do except roll with it?

_Backup…is she talking about Whatshisface? Is that his codename? Or at least, _was_ his codename…?_

"I'll be straightforward with you about this guy. Not only is he clever, he is very keen."

_And psycho. You forgot psycho._

"He knows right where to dig his nails into you and make it hurt, if you know what I mean. I'm a hundred percent sure that he'll use L against you in some way, so please prepare yourself because when he does, it _will_ hurt, understand me? It's all fine and well if he does it to me, but I can't let him do that to you."

_I can't imagine how he could do that. He doesn't even know me, much less about my relationship with L…not enough, at any rate. _

…

_Does he? _

Erin had to grip the seat of her chair to squeeze out the shivers. To be frank, she was far more concerned about simply making through this alive with all of her parts, at the moment.

"I've told you what Wammy's House was all about, right? Backup, or B, was the second in line to succeed L. The first one, A—Alternative—killed himself because he couldn't withstand the pressure. If someone in line falls, it hardly matters because there is always someone of equal value to replace you."

_Alternative…he must've been Backup's friend. Backup blamed L for his friend's suicide…_

"What?" That was all Erin could gasp. Just what kind of madhouse was Wammy's to have a program like that running? Was this an academy, or a factory?

"I know, it's a cruel system, but that's just how it is."

_That's it. I can't and won't go any farther. There are some things she should know and some things she shouldn't. If I can protect her from the rest, I will._

"Yeah? So…what happened? Why didn't he get it, the title, I mean? Did he quit after what happened to…you know, A?"

_Come on, Ace, think fast! If you pause for too long to come up with an answer, she'll know you are hiding something. She's a journalist; she'll sense it. You worked with the king of liars, so it shouldn't be that hard to lie to her._

"Yeah, he quit and left, to pursue other things. Fuck if I know why or what, because like I said, I didn't know him all that well." With that, Acey pulled away from Erin. Sitting back in her chair, she tilted her head up towards the ceiling and closed her eyes, her signal that that particular conversation was over.

"By the way," she said after some time had past, "you are going to hear people talk about me at Wammy's. You'll probably hear everything from I was L's pet, to I'm some reincarnation of A's or some bullshit like that. Just close your ears to it. People tend to ostracize things they don't understand, and Wammy's kids are no exception."

Opening her eyes, she heaved out a heavy sigh, tired and slightly exasperated. "I guess I can see where the theory of my being a reincarnation of A's came from. After he died, no one had been named for the letter A until I came around. I've spoken with A's ghost a handful of times. When I first met him, I cried. He told me that…"

She paused, swallowing audibly as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth to worry at it for a moment.

"…that was the first time anyone had ever shed tears for him."

…

All this talk of death and restless spirits and pain and tears was enough to prick Erin's eyes with tears of her own, which she shielded under the brim of her hat. These kids…had they nothing good going for them? Not counting the chance to be the next L, because what good was that for them, honestly? She pictured clusters of lonely little kids in hand-me-downs with letters stitched to the front of their shirts, with atrocious question-mark posture, diabetic cravings and indelible insomnia rings under their washed-out eyes. All of them as miserable as their mentor himself.

What a hard-knock life.

For some reason, she wondered if any of them had ever even at least gone trick-or-treating.

"Is his ghost still running around? If he is, h-he's not, like, dangerous, like B, is he?"

Acey laughed. "A, dangerous? No. No, he couldn't hurt a fly even if he tried. But yes, his ghost is around. He comes to look in on me from time to time, usually if I'm feeling hurt or sad."

_I won't tell her how he begged me to leave Wammy's. Run away and get out while I still could._

"Oh. Well…that's good to know. In that case, I'm looking forward to meeting him…I think."

What a mind-boggling occupation Acey had: to be forever, literally, pestered by ghosts from the past. Until this point, it'd always been Erin's understanding that once you were dead, that's where you stayed. She was surprised that this hadn't driven the poor girl crazy. Crazy in the bad way.

Erin could see their plane rolling in from out the window. If there was anything else she needed to know about Wammy's beforehand, now was the time to check. She gathered her bags in preparation for boarding.

"Is there anyone else, dead _or _alive—"

She couldn't even begin to describe how strange that sounded when said aloud.

"…that I gotta watch out for, besides B?"

Wicked picked his head up and mewled softly when their plane was called for boarding. Handing his carrier off to Erin, Acey stood up and shouldered her carry-on bag, tapping her chin in thought.

"Nah, no one else I can think of. Well, except maybe for Mello. He has a temper, but he usually doesn't yell at girls," said Acey as she fell into step beside Erin.

Smirking, she leaned up to whisper in her ear, cupping a hand on the side of her mouth. "But he's a catch, if you know what I mean. I'm taken so I can't look, but you sure can," she giggled conspiratorially.

It was a wonder Erin didn't spontaneously combust. Really, boy-watching was the last thing on her mind, at the moment. Not even on her mind at all. Acey seemed to forget that she was still an outsider and older than her, and possibly older than her other friends at Wammy's. The _living _ones, at least.

All the same, having Erin around made Acey very happy.

…

What a predicament Erin was in: too nervous to take her eyes off of the view outside the window, yet being lulled to sleep by ever-annoying jet lag. As her ears popped with turbulence, she squinted at the millions of twinkling city lights at the growing earth below them: the only evidence that there was an earth below them at all amidst the darkness of the night. Had this flight been taken under normal circumstances, perhaps she would've enjoyed the ethereal scenery a little more.

And perhaps she would've appreciated getting to fly first-class, too.

_Winchester, England…somehow it makes a lot of sense to me that old L came from the U.K. That would explain a lot…_

"Uh…Acey? Hey, you awake?" she whispered, her eyes remaining glued to the blinking beacon at the tip of the plane's wing. Something had just occurred to her. "Wh-when we, like, touch down and everything, is somebody from your place gonna be there waiting for us?"

…

"Acey?"

Acey had nodded off more than hour ago, her head resting against the cool glass of the window. When her companion's question didn't reach her ears, the ghost of a business man sitting behind them reached forward to gently shake her awake with a hand on her shoulder.

Erin turned wan. _Holy crap, these guys are everywhere, aren't they? And to think that I've only just begun to notice them because of Acey…_

All she could do was sit there, tight-lipped and cross-legged. Her fingers dug into the arms of her seat.

"Miss, the lady next to you asked you a question."

Rather than wake up, Acey batted his hand away. "Leave me alone. Eat your candy and think by yourself," she grumbled in her sleep.

She must've been dreaming about L, the same guy Erin had spent a good chunk of this flight thinking about. That killed her, as well as everything else.

The phantom businessman raised an eyebrow at Acey and glanced at Erin in question before he resumed trying to wake her. Suddenly, the plane experienced a small spurt of turbulence, causing the plane to shake and Acey was abruptly awakened when her head gently bounced off the window.

"_Ow!_ Goddamn it," she growled as she rubbed her head, feeling jet-lagged herself, not to mention cranky. "Huh, what?" She turned to Erin and rubbed at her eyes, successfully smearing her already running eye liner. "Someone to pick us up after we land? Yeah, Roger is gonna pick us up."

A sour expression fixed itself on her face when she mentioned Roger. "When I told him I was bringing you back with me, I had to hold the phone three feet away from my ear. Stodgy old man," she huffed, crossing her arms stubbornly as she stared out the window. "Him and his stupid bug collection. He thinks he can tell me what to do. Yeah right, I don't think so."

"Roger? He's your, uh, caretaker at the House or something? Is he the headmaster?" Her stomach felt as though it had rocks rolling around in it. Sharp, jagged rocks. They hadn't even met yet, and by the sound of things, this Roger already didn't sound happy about her. Then again, perhaps her anxiety stemmed more from her wariness around principals in general. Her relationship with them had been rather strained in her grade school days; high school had been the worst.

Acey turned away from the window. Keeping her arms folded, she slid down into a slouch in her seat. "Yeah, he's the caretaker. He's like Watari to Near, I suppose. Though nobody actually calls him Watari…"

She trailed off, looking away from Erin for a moment.

_There was only one Watari. And he was the closest thing to a parent I—or any of us—have ever had._

Erin watched the businessman's spirit disappear, having nothing else to contribute. She felt horrible about having not thanked him, but how could she? Not in public, she couldn't.

"Oh. Gee…it already sounds like he isn't too happy to see me," she muttered, releasing the arms to twiddle her fingers in her lap. Tittering mostly for the sake of tittering, she added, "Then again, not a lot of principals back in my day were. The one I had in high school…ho boy, even today, I'm amazed he didn't have me expelled."

"Nah, it's not like that. Don't worry about it. Roger hates kids, and even though you are an adult, you'll still be a kid in his eyes. He more than likely isn't happy about having another child in his charge." Acey explained, reassuring Erin with a smile.

Why would a guy have a job that involved working with kids if he hated them? Even Erin could find no sense in that. Perhaps he was a friend of Quillish Wammy's who did it out of obligation? Or perhaps Acey was just exaggerating? Teenage rebellion and all that.

"Oh. I thought maybe he had a problem with me being there because…you know, no one's actually supposed to, well, know about you guys," she mumbled towards her lap.

Curiosity settled into the younger girl's hazel eyes. "Say, Erin, what was high school like? My mother never put me in school. I never really got a proper education until I got to Wammy's. I mean, well, one of my father's associates taught me how to read and write, and he gave me lots of books to read, so it's not like I wasn't educated. I just never got to experience high school, is all."

"Huh? High school?" Erin rolled her gaze up towards the tiny fluorescent light above her. "Well…I'm not sure how to answer that. You'd have to have been there to really know what I'm talking about. Then again, I wouldn't say you were missing anything. In fact, you probably wouldn't have liked it. I mean, the spirit weeks and football games and dances and stuff were cool, but then there were the cliques, the labels, the peer pressure, the hormones. If you did something dumb—not like cool-dumb, but dumb-dumb—they wouldn't let you live it down. If you were weird in some way, they didn't tend to forgive that, either. Particularly if you were intelligent. Like, you know, grades-wise. They found it threatening, I guess. You couldn't help but feel sorry for them, in a way."

A queasy sense of nostalgia knotted her guts as she rambled. "Back in tenth grade—or was it eleventh? Well, at any rate, back when I was young and stupid—stupider than I am now, I mean—I wrote for the school paper. One day, I caught the principal and the gym coach in a…um…compromising position in the supply closet." Her ears burned at the image that had burned into her memory. "And being the jerk that I was, I posted the story in the paper for the entire student body to see. Man, did I get ripped a new one! The editors gave me the ax, and I was the school pariah for the rest of my time there, practically. They never stopped talking about it. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if they're _still _prattling about it," Erin lamented, shaking her head. "In the end, though, it was all about sucking it up. Really, I don't think you'd have been very happy there. I-I'm not trying to be cynical; I mean, I'm just going by my own experience, here. But…nah, I doubt you would've liked it."

By the time Erin had shut up, everyone else had filed out of the plane, none of them having the patience for her to finish her yarn before getting off.

"Right," Acey replied softly. Standing up, she shouldered her carry-on bag and walked behind Erin down the aisle. "I don't think I would've been happy there, either. High school sounds like a horrible place."

She didn't even mean to say what she said next.

"If I had gone to high school, I probably would've ended up committing suicide, like A did. I don't think I need to explain why."

It was a wonder how Erin managed to avoid tripping over the threshold and biting her tongue.

"Where the hell do you—_please_ tell me you're just horsing with me. You _must _be, this time," she pleaded once the two were a safe distance away from the concerned attendant. "I-it's like I said, I'm just relaying _my _experience! Sure, it sucked more than it didn't, but it wasn't _that _bad! Besides, don't you remember what I said back at the hotel? Or do I gotta repeat myself?"

When they walked into the lobby and headed towards the baggage claim, Acey impulsively reached for Erin's hand and laced her fingers through hers, feeling sick and ashamed of what she'd said. She couldn't even look Erin in the eyes.

At a loss for what else to say, Erin murmured, "L-listen, if I were you, I'd just not think any more about it. High school, I mean. You didn't do it, so it's not worth the time of day. Hell, I'd be _grateful_ not to have done it, if I were you. Friends, family, just being alive…_that's _what I'd think more about."

Hanging her head, Acey squeezed Erin's hand, resisting the urge to reach up and snatch her hat off her head and put it on her own, pulling the brim down low to hide the shame and disgust for herself in her eyes. "I-I'm sorry," she squeaked, finding the courage to look up at Erin. "I didn't mean what I said. It just kind of slipped out. I have this awful habit of speaking without thinking about it, first."

"Huh. Small world, after all."

Erin squeezed back. Neither of them spoke again as they snatched their luggage the instant they appeared on the conveyor belt. Deciding to break the tension by changing the subject (as it so needed to be changed), Erin said, "Y'know, when I was little, I used to wonder where everybody's bags came from when we landed. It seemed like magic to me, almost: how we dropped them off at the one airport and didn't see 'em again until we got to the baggage claim at the next place. My brother Farley told me, but I wasn't satisfied enough to leave it at that. No sir. Once I set out to uncover the truth myself—a little investigative journalism, if you will—and…well, to make a long story short, security got involved. Naturally," she tittered.

"It was one of those things that you look back on later, when you're older and all, and you can't help but laugh at yourself. And it actually feels kind of good to. So, er, where exactly is Roger meeting us? How will we recognize him?"

Acey giggled. She loved that Erin knew exactly what to say to chase away her shameful feelings. "You know what I always used to think when I was younger? That all the parents in the world went and had a meeting in the White House to discuss what their plans would be for holidays like Christmas, Halloween and Easter."

Grabbing her luggage off the belt, she began to scan the crowd. She didn't have to look for very long though, because a sharp, shrill whistle cut across the airport, followed by a familiar voice shouting at her.

"Oi! Hurry your scrawny ass up, Acey!"

Acey whipped her head to see a tall blonde boy clad in leather walking towards them, biting off a corner of a chocolate bar. A taller boy with muddy red hair and a pair of goggles pulled down over his eyes trailed obediently behind the blonde, his eyes never once leaving the screen of his hand-held video game.

"Bite me, Mello!" she retorted, socking Mello playfully in the shoulder.

…_I thought she said that Mello didn't yell at girls. Well, she did say "usually…"_

"I can't even begin to tell you how insufferable Near has been while you were gone," he seethed, biting off another piece of chocolate with an angry snap.

She beamed when she turned to Erin. "Erin, this big ball of grouchiness is Mello. Mello, this is the beautiful Erin Blogger," she introduced as she walked around to the other boy. "And this sweetie behind him is Matt." Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed Matt on the cheek.

Matt raised his hand in a halfhearted wave without missing a beat in whatever game he was playing. His fingers tapped across the console in a sort of frenzied dance. For some reason, he reminded Erin of L, with his detachment from the outside world and obsessive focus on quenching his thirst for games, knowing just well enough to acknowledge others with a casual wave.

In the meantime, Erin could feel herself blushing, perhaps because Acey had referred to her as "beautiful." That killed her. When she looked over the boys for herself, however, she felt herself shrink in her shoes. She wasn't sure about Matt—he seemed so off in his own eight-pixel world—but Mello didn't appear too happy to see her. His cold, crystal-blue gaze could cut perhaps even a hardened mafia boss down to size.

She cleared her throat and worked up her most genial smile. "Um…hey. How's it going?" Placing her bags and Wicked's carrier carefully on the floor, she offered her hand as though she were sticking it through the bars of a lion's cage. A very mad lion's cage.

Crossing his arms, Mello stepped in between Acey and Erin. "Why are you here? And what exactly are your intentions towards Acey?" he asked coldly, glaring at her.

_Oh, boy. _

Something about this boy also reminded her of L, and not just because of the chocolate clutched in his hand. He reminded her of the more unpleasant aspects she remembered of his predecessor: the ruthlessness, the distrust, the noisy eating habits. He had a rather savage way of eating the chocolate, snapping chunks off of it as loudly as possible like a beast ripping chunks of flesh off a carcass. As though warning you, _one false step, and you're dog meat like this chocolate. _

The only difference was, if Mello didn't like you, you knew right away that he didn't.

Honestly, though, something about _all _these kids before her made her think of L. In a twisted way, it made sense, she supposed. These kids had supposedly been taught to be like him.

Erin rubbed the back of her clammy neck. "Heh-heh, I could ask you the same thing. She wanted to bring me back with her to see her family, so, uhm, here we are. That's all I know," she said, not knowing how else to respond.

Acey slipped an apologetic look at Erin as she stepped around to Mello. "Hey," she said in a soft, soothing tone. Standing up on her tiptoes, she put her arms around him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his forehead against hers. "What?"

"I know you mean well, but Erin isn't a threat, I promise. She's not here to take any of us away from each other. She's my friend, and she's done a lot for me. It would really mean a lot to me if you could be nice to her, alright?"

Heaving out a heavy sigh, Mello closed his eyes, and hugged Acey a little tighter against him for a moment before pulling away. "Matt, get her bags," he ordered, fixing Erin in another glare that said, _Make one wrong move, towards Acey or otherwise, and I won't let you get away with it. _

Erin could only bite her upper lip in response. _O…kay. _

Once he'd shouldered Acey's carry-on and picked up her suitcase, he turned and stalked out of the airport without another word.

While Erin bent over to grab Wicked's carrier, she glanced up at Matt, who still appeared mesmerized by the tiny pixelated explosions reflecting in his goggles. He made no immediate movements to pick up her luggage.

She wasn't sure if he'd even hear her, but it was worth a shot. He seemed more mild-mannered than his companion, if pretty zonked out. "Um…excuse me? Matt? That's your name, right? Matt? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I—I think it's gonna be a little hard for you to carry my stuff when you've got both hands wrapped around that game, don't you think?"

Again without missing a beat in his game, Matt peered at her from out of the corner of his eye. _She's considerate. I like that. _

He furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. To be a gentleman or not to be, that was the question. Why not, he figured. He was just finishing the level stage in his game, anyhow. After he saved his progress and shut off the electronic, he held out his hand for her bags. "Don't worry about Mello. He may seem intimidating, but his bark is worse than his bite, trust me," he said, flashing a friendly smile.

_Easy for you to say. You guys live together. You're family, practically. I'm a stranger. _

"Erm…sure. Thanks, uh, dude." She accepted Matt's offer and placed her bags at his feet, though kept Wicked with her. "So, what happens now? We meet up with Roger, I guess would be the first thing, and then…do I gotta go through a rigorous trust test, or something? I couldn't help but notice that Mello asked me why I was here, what my motives were. Did you guys know beforehand about our arrival? 'Cause if you did, I'm figuring that that's part of the test. Right?"

For the sake of keeping her nerves in line, she began to walk. Careful not to swing the cat's carrier around too much, her gait stiffened with apprehension as she tried to keep in step with Acey on her left flank and Matt on her right.

"Test?" Matt raised an eyebrow. "Nah, there's no test. But we will put you in a torture chamber before you leave to be absolutely certain you won't say anything about us," he said in a sober tone with a completely serious look on his face.

Erin could almost _feel _her aorta rupture. Into a million pieces.

Acey rolled her eyes, pushing Matt away with her hand as she put an arm around Erin. "Don't listen to a word that genius says."

Matt laughed once he'd steadied himself. "Aw come on, Ace, that was funny! The look on her face was absolutely priceless." Winking at Erin, he put his hands up in self-defense before he jogged to catch up with Mello. "Hey Mello, did you see the look on her face? It was hysterical; she thought I was being serious!"

Having nothing appropriate to say in response, Erin closed her eyes, a finger tugging at the collar of her blouse. _They're just kids. They're just horsing around. They didn't mean it, they didn't mean it…_

_They really ARE with you, L. They've even got your backwards sense of humor. _

A sleek black car awaited the group outside, with a thin old man in a suit and spectacles standing by the door of the passenger's seat, wispy grey hair thinning at the hairline. His beak-like nose turned upward as he noticed them emerge from the building, revealing his lips to be pursed into something that wasn't a smile, but not quite a scowl, either. Either way, he didn't appear very content at that particular frame in time.

Erin swallowed. _That must be Roger._

Roger's thick, grey eyebrows furrowed in disapproval when he saw Acey walking with an almost protective arm around the young reporter she'd brought back with her. _Of course Acey would do the exact opposite of what I told her to do. And of course, Blogger's being here is going to go over well with Near because she has him wrapped around her wretched little finger._

"It's a pleasure to have you with us, Ms. Blogger," he greeted as courteously as he could despite his displeasure. He visibly cringed as Matt began horsing around with Mello as they put the luggage into the trunk.

Acey's face fell somewhat when she noticed Near hadn't come along. It wasn't like she wasn't happy that Matt and Mello had come, but even so, she was more than a little anxious to see her lover after almost three months of being away from him.

"Uhm…it's a pleasure to be had, Mr. Roger," Erin grinned sheepishly back at him, tipping the brim of her hat. "Hey, thanks for driving us up to the neighborhood, Mr. Roger. Really appreciate it." Upon replaying her words, she suddenly groaned, "D'oh, no, wait! That was horrible! Rewind, rewind!"

If only life was equipped with such a useful thing as a rewind button. What was with her love of cracking pop culture references when she got nervous? But then, maybe she hadn't messed up _that _much? Maybe, since they were in England and all, they wouldn't even know that show?

Unless, of course, they also aired it here…

The snickering that emitted from the back of the car didn't help at all to clear up her blush.

Erin offered Wicked's carrier to Roger, not thinking very much of it since he was supposed to be Wammy's caretaker, her free hand messaging the bridge of her nose. Her gaze hovered more towards the concrete under her feet than towards his face. "Sir, would it be all right if I sat in the backseat? I-I'm not gonna do anything back there, I just…I just don't want shotgun, is all."

She did not notice the cat peering up through the bars at the man with glazed, unfriendly eyes.

"Wait!" Acey cried, grabbing the carrier away from Erin in time as Wicked hissed. The sound of his claws dragging against the metal bars of the carrier door made everyone cringe.

"Phew! That could've ended badly." Wicked glared at Roger as Acey lifted him out of the carrier and set it in the trunk before Roger closed it.

Fortunately for Erin, Mello had already claimed the front seat. Matt slid into the back seat after the girls got in, letting Erin sit next to Acey. Once Roger was sure everyone was situated, he closed the passenger side door and got in the car.

Matt maneuvered himself so that he was laying in both of the girls' laps. Wicked growled, disgruntled with being forced to hop down onto the floor. "Mello, you were an idiot to pass up the opportunity to ride in the back seat with two girls who are hot as hell." he sighed contentedly, grinning up at both girls.

Erin wasn't sure which got her more flustered: the fact that a boy was resting in her lap, or the fact that said boy had just called her "hot." These kids sure were weird. In a rather endearing way. Or endearing in a weird way; she wasn't quite sure, yet. She fixed her eyes into her reflection in the rear-view and tried to ignore it. After all, it wasn't really hurting anybody, and she _was_ a guest.

"You forget, Matt, that one of them is engaged," said Mello, rolling his eyes.

_Huh? So they're all playing the same game…_

"Oh, speaking of, Near got your anniversary present, the other day," said Matt, focusing intently on his game, again.

Acey eyes widened. "Oh no, did you see it? Is it expensive?" Her question wasn't asked with as much excitement as it was with suspicion.

"I've been sworn to secrecy." Matt glanced away from his game for a moment up at Erin, having clearly heard the suspicion in Acey's question. "Her suspicion is understandable. A week before their first anniversary, Acey was swooning all over a horse that was on the cover of a magazine because that placed first in some big horse show in London. After Near looked it over, she ended up getting a five hundred-thousand-dollar-anniversary present, if you know what I mean."

No one paid any mind to the way Roger mumbled to himself about that story.

"No _way!_ You mean he _bought_ her that horse?" breathed Erin. "Gosh, Acey, so you and Near have been together for quite a while? A-and it sounds like he likes to spoil you, huh?" She cracked a crooked grin into the rear-view mirror. "I-I think I might be a little jealous!"

A dark blush coated Acey's cheeks. The goofy grin of a girl very much in love stretched across her lips. "Three years. It'll be three years on Sunday. Heh, yes, though I don't think he'll admit to it aloud, I think he rather enjoys spoiling me. I fell over on my head, and I think Roger's soul floated out of him a little when I found out Near bought Damien for me. I'll introduce you to him in the morning, if you like."

Honestly, though, the bigger wonder was how the hell a little kid could pony up that many zeroes—no pun intended—to buy a show-horse for his girlfriend. Most boys that she imagined to be his age settled for flowers, chocolate and dinner-movies, at the most. These kids sure didn't mess around…even when they were.

She wondered if L had been some kind of millionaire, who had left Near his fortune as well as his title. What would he have thought about his successors spending his money like that? The whole thing killed her to imagine. In more ways than one.

For some reason, thinking about L in that moment in time brought something to Erin's eye. She quickly rubbed it away with her knuckles.

Acey rested her head on Erin's shoulder. It went without saying that the three other souls sitting with her shared her sentiments.

…

Forty-five minutes later, Roger turned up into a long, winding road. Acey lifted her head off of Erin's shoulder to smile at her. "Welcome to Wammy's House, Erin," she said as they passed between the wrought iron gates of the property. The clock tower visible in the distance began to chime as if to mark their arrival.

A faint shiver rattled down her backbone upon hearing the heralding bells. L had mentioned something about "the bell" to her shortly before Light had died, with his death following suit a mere three weeks afterwards. She wondered for a moment if this was where he got the idea for it.

Erin decided to turn her attention to the House, instead. Except, under the soft glow of the yard lights, it looked way more to her like a palace out of a fairy tale somewhere. She hadn't even gotten out of the car yet, and the massive architecture alone was enough to make her feel insignificant. Out of place. Unworthy.

She whistled, "You sure this is a house? 'Cause it looks more like a _castle_, from my angle. But then, we _are _in England, so I guess _all_ the buildings here look like castles, huh?"

Leaving Roger to take care of their luggage, Acey took Erin's hand and ushered her inside, with Wicked bounding after them. She wasn't surprised to see so many children outside of their rooms after curfew, considering how Roger had been gone for a few hours picking them up. "The inside of this place is like a maze. It's very easy to get lost around here. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I got lost when I first came here. I was lucky I had A to help me."

Two girls stopped to stare at them as they passed. "Look, it's that girl. She's cursed," one girl said, taking a few steps back.

"Yeah, I heard that, too," said her companion. "Anyone who gets close to her ends up dead, and that's why she sees ghosts all the time. That's why L died, you know, and she'll kill Near, too, I just know it."

They both leered at Acey like she was an abomination. "Hey you, you should let go of her hand before you die, too."

Halting abruptly, Acey started to quiver with anger. She clenched her fist. These two were clearly trying to get a rise out of her, and they were doing a good job as far she was concerned. "I think you should shut your mouths before I shut them for you," she seethed in a low venomous tone.

What was Erin to do, being a guest? She certainly didn't want a fight to ensue; she was in no mood for it. She quickly let go of Acey's hand to get in the middle. While she was never much of a diplomat, playing peacemaker for kids would surely be easier to playing one for adults?

Unless, of course, all of these kids were carbon copies of L. Then maybe she'd have a problem.

"Hey, hey, there's no need to be flinging fighting words around. You guys are House-mates; House-mates gotta stick together, don't they?" she tittered. "Besides, it's way too late for that, don't you think? Also, I've been with her for over twenty-four hours now, and I'm still kicking."

_For the most part. _

Even at an orphanage/ academy like Wammy's, where an outsider like Erin would've expected its residents to look out for each other, nowhere was sanctuary from persecution.

"Oh. By the way, my name's Erin. Nice to meet you two." She introduced herself mostly for the sake of switching the subject, and in an attempt to start familiarizing herself with the kids. After all, she would be staying here for a week.

Tch! Girls were so mean, and this woman was way too polite. Honestly, he would've rather seen Acey bash those girls' teeth straight through their lips, but he thought what he had in mind would be far more effective.

Holding the handle of a pair of scissors between his thumb and index figure, the phantom leaned his lanky frame over the banister and let the scissors fall from between his fingers. He thoroughly enjoyed the frightened screams they produced when the scissors landed tip down just inches away from their feet. Any closer and it would've stabbed through them.

Erin threw her arms up in the air, horrified. All the color in her face drained out into her armpits in the form of sweat stains. _I haven't been here for five minutes, and there's sharp, pointy objects falling from the ceiling. This place really IS a madhouse! _

"Uh, o-okay, I think you guys should scamper on back to bed, where it's safe—from Mr. Roger, I mean! Y-you got curfew here and all, don't you?" Having found the nerve to gently shoo the girls down the hallway, she turned to grimace at Acey. "Who the hell was that? Was that old Jaime? For God's sake, they're just kids, you ijit!"

She turned her gaze up towards the ceiling to find the girl's companion. "Where are you? Y-you could've cut my foot off, you ijit! Or Acey's! God, it's no wonder she keeps getting picked on around here. Seems like all you do is make it worse by encouraging them."

Jaime glared down at her. "It wasn't me. It was—"

He frowned. "It figures, he's gone." Sighing heavily, he boosted himself over the banister, landing gracefully on his feet like a cat.

"Besides, those girls had it coming. How dare they talk to my lady like that! They got what they deserved, even if he wasn't defending her," he scoffed.

"They wouldn't be doing that if you and all your other ghost pals didn't try to hurt him every time they said something. You're just enforcing to them how 'dangerous' Acey is if you do that. Besides that, I thought you were taught to be chivalrous towards _all _girls? Or is that more of a selective thing?"

"No, he wasn't defending me," said Acey, crouching down to pick the scissors up. "This was more like his way of saying, 'I heard you were looking for me. Well, I'm here.' That's all."

_He's probably waiting for me…us in my room._

Erin promptly lurched over as an odd mix of fear and vexation nibbled at her guts like a tapeworm. "Oh, no. No-no-no-no-no, you don't mean…aw, well I got news for him: we _weren't _looking for him. So he can just—just back off! It's late, I'm lagging, I just wanna crash somewhere. I'll even take a couch, if I have to." She was only vaguely aware of how bratty she must've sounded at that moment, but it could be barely helped. She didn't even want to meet Near, much less this B, until she'd at least had a good night's sleep—or at least, as much sleep as could be had from whatever was left of the night.

"No, you will not be sleeping on a couch. You'll be sleeping a comfortable bed in my room with me," Acey replied stubbornly, feeling as exhausted as Erin did. She only hoped they could go to bed without any setbacks.

"I don't sense him in your room, m'lady, so it'll be safe for you to take her there and turn in for the night," said Jaime. He'd be keeping watch over the girls all night, so danger wouldn't be able to come within fifty feet of them.

Acey nodded and took Erin's hand, guiding her down upstairs and down the hall to her room. Even though Jaime had reassured her it was safe, she still opened the door cautiously. She swept her arm out as she stepped back for Erin to come in. "This is my room."

Acey's room was fairly clean except for a few tank tops and a pair of jeans strewn about on the floor. There were two beds across from each other. Acey's was adorned with black canopy curtains. In between the beds was a book shelf over-stacked with books.

"Every roommate assigned to my room always got different rooming accommodations a short time later. The reason should be obvious. I don't get lonely, though. Jaime is always around and A sometimes comes and stays for a little while. And I always have Mello, Matt and Near for human company."

"That's good to know," Erin yawned, in spite of herself. "Can't wait to meet him, by the way. In the morning, naturally. Thanks for letting me crash here, by the way. You really are a sweetheart, when you're given the chance." She had just enough energy to kick off her shoes and place them by the closet door, her wary gaze darting back and forth across the room. She purposefully chose the bed by the window, in case this B was to show up and she needed to make a quick escape. Just as she flopped down on the mattress—which seemed like lying on a cloud, the way she felt then—Wicked came slinking inside to hop up on Acey's bed.

Erin clutched a cool pillow against her cheek as she stared out into the vast darkness beyond the window. "Is…is he nice, Near? I mean, for a guy who's filling in for L and all?"

After she'd changed out of her jeans and into a pair of sweatpants, and shed her jacket, Acey paused to light an incense stick. Lavender scented smoke curled and danced around the room.

She opened the window before crawling to lay on her bed. Lighting a cigarette—her first since Erin walked into her life—she stared up at the ceiling, exhaling a cloud of smoke as she considered the question.

"I'm not going to lie. He may overwhelm you, at first. You might not know what to make of him, but yes, he is nice."

"Oh. Sounds believable. L was kind of the same way, when I knew him—hey." Erin shot up to sniff the air, wrinkling her nose at the odd potpourri of incense and tobacco that clashed in her nostrils. "You smoking? Y-you shouldn't do that; you're gonna ruin your good looks, that way. Not to mention, your life expectancy." As much as she knew how common it was for teenagers to smoke, the idea killed her, all the same.

She buried her head under the pillow to gather whatever clean air she could for herself. The sickly scent triggered a flash in her memory. "When I was living with L, he had this friend who was a thief working with him on the investigation. We all called her Wedy. You know her? Pretty lady, pretty and smart, but she smoked, too. I used to hassle her about it all the time, because we had to share the air and all…wonder what she's up to, these days? Her and old Aiber…I wonder if she still smokes?"

Acey shrugged as she finished her cigarette and stubbed it out on the ashtray. "Yeah, I know her. I admire her because she's such a strong, beautiful woman who is great at her job. She taught me what L couldn't teach me about hacking.

"Thank you for thinking I'm pretty. I guess I'm one of those weak people that needs a crutch to get through the day."

Erin slowly removed the pillow from over her head. "Ah, well…it's okay. I'm kind of the same way. I mean, I don't smoke, but I'm not exactly what you could call strong, myself. Might act like I am, but I know deep down that I'm not fooling anybody."

"I'm not a chain smoker. I have one every few days or so. I've been considering quitting for Near. Perhaps I'll consider quitting for you, too," Acey replied, smiling gently at Erin before getting up to kiss her good-night on the cheek.

"Thank you for giving me a chance, and for sticking with me this long. You've done more for me than you know."

For some reason, the way Acey had kissed her, the way she said that, made Erin feel so warm that she felt like crying, and not simply because the girl's breath was still pungent with nicotine. Perhaps because L had acted almost the same way when she'd left him.

But she managed to swallow the lump in her throat. They'd been through enough drama for one night. There was always tomorrow. For now, here was to hoping that they'd reach tomorrow with all of their parts still intact. "Uh…yeah. Thanks, you too. G'night, Acey."

…

Not long after that, both fell asleep. Jaime had taken up his post, vigilantly watching over the two, when Near let himself into the room. Sitting down on Acey's bed as soundlessly as the ghosts she spoke to, he gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before looking over his shoulder at her snoring roommate.

_I wish you wouldn't be so reckless, Acey. Your confiding in Ms. Blogger could've ended badly and I might've lost you. I don't want to, but if she truly makes you happy, perhaps I will have to start trusting her with you._

He regarded Erin for a moment before quietly making his exit.


	7. 02: 1

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, ****Ken'ichi Kanemaki's **_**Hell Girl. **_

_**02-1**_

She didn't know how, but Erin had somehow managed to fall asleep, in spite of what was to come the following day. That being said, the very first thing she did upon waking up to the overcast skies outside the window, after shaking the sleep out of her head, was check to see if she still had all of her parts attached the way they should've been.

No signs of blood or scarring. So far, so good.

Erin groped her head and neck to make sure she still had them, felt her pulse, took several deep breaths, then took all of her other extremities into account. She had just finished counting her fingers—all ten of them, thank God—and was just starting to count her toes when Acey began to stir.

Meanwhile, Jaime was staring at Erin curiously with a raised eyebrow. "M'lady, if I may ask, what exactly are you doing?"

She blushed. "Huh? Who, me? Well, I—oh, I'm just, you know, doing my morning routine. I—I always check to make sure I've got it all together in the morning."

Acey made the mistake of sitting up too fast. Her head swam, and she had to place a hand on the wall to steady herself. Her whole body was shaking, and she seemed disoriented. "I-I hate it when he d-does that," she mumbled.

Erin took her hands off of her feet. "Who, Acey? Wh-who did what?"

"M'lady, are you alright?" Jaime asked, alarmed.

Her head swam again when she got out of bed. Seconds later, she stumbled. Fortunately, a pair of arms caught her before she hit the ground. Breathing hard, she looked up into a pair of kind blue eyes framed by short black bangs.

"Ah, A, thank you," Acey whispered. "E-Erin, this is A. A, this is Erin Blogger."

Erin placed her sock-feet on the floor as she assumed a sitting position on her bed. She hesitated for a minute or two, chewing on her bottom lip before answering, "Uhm…hi! G'morning! How goes it?" Unsure of whether or not to shake A's hand—what with his being a ghost and all—she settled for waving a peace sign. "So _you're _the A these guys told me about."

For a moment, the room felt a bit chillier for her, all of a sudden. _The A who was B's friend. The A who was L's first successor. The A who killed himself._

Erin couldn't say much else upon thinking about this. Every day, it continued to stun her to see just how easily life could be taken away. Even by the dead, apparently.

"Oh, you've heard of me? Good things, I hope," A turned to smile at Erin over his shoulder. "Let me get the Miss taken care of first, then I can better make your acquaintance."

Closing her eyes, Acey rested her head in A's lap, sighing contently as her breathing began to even out. "When B died, he somehow acquired the power to walk into my dreams. I don't know how he gained such a power, but it truly is a bother when he does it, because he has to draw energy from my aura in order to stay in the astral plane of dreaming. It takes such a physical toll on my body, as you can see. A here can restore whatever energy B drew from me and balance it out again," she explained. "The first time B did this, it put me in a coma of sorts for two days. Poor Roger thought I was dead, though I swear he was rejoicing a little bit."

Erin tried not to turn green. _I swear to God, this B sounds more and more like a stalker…hasn't he got anything better to do in the afterlife except terrorize people? _

A smiled somewhat down at her. "B still hasn't grasped how strong the Miss is."

Wicked glared and hissed in passing at A as he hopped on Erin's bed. He sat behind her, very displeased about another male presence in the room.

A grinned sheepishly. "I see Wicked still dislikes me. When I started hearing rumors that the Miss had befriended someone on the outside, I had to come see for myself. She doesn't like a lot of people, so you must be pretty special in some way, Erin."

Peering down at her feet, Erin twiddled her thumbs for a spell. "Aw, well, I—I'm not all that—well, I did know L, if that counts for anything. As in, face-to-face. Lived with him for a while, actually. Strictly case-related circumstances," she added hastily. "Other than that…nah, I'm not such hot stuff." She paused to make a few stretches before rising up from the bed. "Gosh, did I sleep in my clothes, last night? No wonder I feel so…funky. Better go get changed, huh?"

"Yeah, you passed right out after scolding me about smoking," said Acey, picking her head up from A's lap to grin at her. "You can use the shower in my bathroom, if you like. I'm going to stay close to A, a little longer."

"Gee, thanks, kiddo. I won't be too long, swear it."

A looked down at Acey and then at Erin. To him, they seemed like they belonged together in some weird way. They complemented one another well. "You shouldn't sell yourself so short. Any friend of the Miss's is a friend of mine."

Friends with phantoms. That killed Erin to think about it.

Figuring that Near would be seeing them sometime that day, if he wasn't already waiting for them downstairs, so it would seem appropriate to look pleasant and presentable. After all, it wasn't every day that one got to meet face-to-face with L, _or _his successor.

Unless, of course, he wouldn't actually be meeting her face-to-face and would instead communicate with her through a computer and a voice filter. Understandable, if he wouldn't trust her with seeing his face.

Oh, just what _was_ he like? Well, perhaps if he was anything like L, Erin could spot him fairly easily in the crowd. Unless, of course, he stayed holed up in his room all day, just as his predecessor did before him. In the same clothes, day in and day out, rain or shine, with a thumb in his mouth.

Was he even staying at Wammy's, at the moment? Probably. Roger was supposed to be his "Watari," and _he _was here.

_Well…here's to hoping that old Near is, above all else, sensible. At least, a little. Please, let him be just a little, at LEAST. _

Unbeknownst to Erin, her five minutes under the hot showerhead had already melted into ten.

When she eventually turned off the water and threw back the curtain in a daze, she was met by a pair of purple eyes staring right at her. A ghost-child with short black hair sat on the sink counter, dressed in a dark pink kimono, swinging her legs back and forth.

"_Gah!"_

She giggled childishly, "You're nervous, aren't you? Near is a meanie-head when I knock down his dominos. He sometimes lets me play with tarot cards, though. He's very selfish about his Legos. He never lets me play with them."

Giggling again, she reached out to pull Erin's wet, tangled hair. "I'm Kikuri. What's your name, silly human?"

Erin had originally reached out for her towel, but wound up reaching back for the curtain to draw it over herself, like a shield. She had to prop herself up against the slick wall with her other hand to keep from slipping. "Erin. A-and where the heck did _you _pop up from? Acey, there's a ghost in the bathroom!"

Honestly, she wasn't sure whether to feel terrified or humiliated. She was _naked_, right now, after all! Moreover, this new spirit appeared to be of Japanese origins. So, what was she doing here in England?

"You want to know something funny?" Kikuri asked, nimbly jumping off the sink counter and onto the tub ledge, peering at Erin behind the curtain, causing her to curl up further into the corner, even going so far as to peel the corner of the curtain with her to cover herself.

"She knew about the Ey—"

"_Gah, go away, I'm not decent!" _

"Kikuri!"

Kikuri turned her head and stuck her tongue out at Acey, who was standing the doorway of the bathroom, looking furious and a little frightened. "What have I told you about walking in on people like that! You're being rude, now come here!" She lunged towards her.

Kikuri giggled, dancing away from Acey's hands. Acey gave chase as the spirit darted out of bathroom, proceeding to make the medium chase her around the room. A watched them both run circles around him with a slightly amused expression on his face. He could recall observing L watching Acey chase Kikuri around a hotel room once, wearing the same expression.

Even the fleetest thought of his late mentor made him cringe. In all of the commotion, however, no one noticed this.

"Come here, you little runt," Acey growled, nearly falling on her face in trying to grab Kikuri as she jumped off her bed.

"All right, Kikuri, come here. That's enough," A said, suppressing laughter.

Kikuri dodged Jaime, and jumped up into A's arms, sticking her tongue out at Acey.

"Get her out of here," Acey hissed angrily, catching her breath. She pointed at the door. "Now."

In the meantime, Erin dared only to poke her head out of the bathroom door, clutching the damp towel around herself in an attempt to quell the shivers. Even in fear, her motor of a mouth didn't fail to sputter a hundred questions a minute. "I-is it safe to come out, now? Acey, wh-who the heck _was _that? Is she dangerous? You gotta tell me right now, if she is, 'cause she just basically tried to jump me in the shower. In the _shower_, kid!"

Sighing heavily, Acey slid her closet door open. Kneeling on the floor, she began to sort through clothes, tossing shirts and jeans over her shoulder. "In addition to doing business in England and United States, my father also did a lot of business in Japan, mainly in Osaka, where I was born. The little runt you just met was Kikuri. My father permitted one of his associates to take me out sight-seeing, which is how I stumbled on her. I think she was some sort of psychic or seer, because when we met, she told me a man with big eyes was going to take me away from all the blood one day."

She laughed a little. "Then she pulled my hair and asked me why it was always snowing on my head. Jaime tried to shoo her away, but she never really left. My memory of the night L found me is still pretty fuzzy, but I remember floating to consciousness long enough to see her overwhelm L, asking him if he was the man with big eyes that would take me away, and that she would gouge his eyes out in his sleep if he hurt me.

"She likes to cause me trouble, as you saw. B took a real shine to her, and it seemed like L did, too."

"Oh yeah? Sounds like you guys all have, uh…quite a history, together."

Acey paused. Biting her lower lip, her hands nervously clenched in and out into fists.

"…Did she say anything to you? In the bathroom, I mean?"

Erin had just begun dressing as Acey relayed this story to her. She collected enough of her composure to call back, "N-not much. I was kinda busy screaming my head off to hear much of it. She did say that Near was a…a 'meanie-head,' though." She accentuated the word "meanie-head" as though she were deactivating a bomb. "But I'm just gonna take that with a grain of salt. Or two. Or ten."

…

"Oh yeah, and that you knew something about—uh, something. Like I said, I was too busy screaming my head off to hear much."

Acey breathed a sigh of relief, taking care to make it barely audible. She was glad her back was turned to Erin so she wouldn't see how frightened she'd been. _Good, she doesn't know…yet. I don't doubt for a second B sent her up here to stir things up._

"_You wear your emotions all over your face, Acey. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask to stop that, it's not good for your line of work."_

Her fists slowly unclenched as a shaky smile tugged at the corners of her lips. It felt like L was sitting right there in the room with her, scolding her again.

_I know, I'm sorry, I just can't help it sometimes_.

Having never been the type to like silence or long pauses, Erin spoke up again as she brushed the wet tendrils of her hair into a ponytail. "So she's basically the stalking type. Well, no! No, that sounds a bit strong. She's more like…a groupie for you, huh? Sorta like old Jaime is?"

When she heard Jaime being referred to as a groupie, Acey covered her mouth to hold back her laugh, but it was no use. It chugged out of her throat, anyway.

_This girl is amazing. Nobody has ever been able to make me laugh like this._

"Oh Jaime, did you hear that? She thinks you're a groupie," she laughed, wrapping an arm around herself. She stopped Jaime when he opened his mouth to belt out a retort at Erin. "I've got this one."

Acey took a few seconds to compose herself. "I'm sorry," she said, turning to face at Erin as she emerged fully-clothed from the bathroom. "I haven't laughed like that since…well, that doesn't matter. Anyways, let me explain something. I guess you could refer to me as a last grasp at humanity for ghosts like Kikuri, Jaime and A, even. I can see ghosts, hear them, and touch them. When they touch me, I feel as whole to them as humans are to each other. I make them feel human, again. Death is cold and very lonely, I've been told. I have the power to alleviate them of their loneliness. And some cling to that, as you can see."

The small swell of warmth that Erin had felt upon hearing the younger girl laugh at her poorly aimed joke cooled upon hearing this. Jaime had told her almost the same thing, the night before they'd departed for England. If Acey was saying it, then it had to be true.

_Death is cold and very lonely…_

…

"So…okay, so in that case, have you ever, like, talked to—"

Erin stopped herself before the lump had the time to wedge itself firmly in her throat. Somehow, in a way, she would already know the answer to her question, anyway. For a moment, the ominous purr of a certain apple-craving shinigami drilled through one ear and out the other.

_Humans who use the Death Note don't make their way to Heaven or to Hell. _

_So what awaits _them _after death? _

_Nothing. _

She never did figure out what "nothing" meant. But whatever it was, it must've been very cold and lonely indeed.

"Uh, on second thought, forget it. I'm decent now, so let's scamper down to breakfast. I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse—n-not _your _horse! I don't even like horses. Ah, not in _that_ way! I'm just saying—_gah!_"

Acey barely heard Erin speak. Normally, she would've hushed the journalist's rambling with a finger pressed to her lips. "I'm sorry, but no, I haven't. It's like trying to catch smoke with your fingertips. Every time I've reached out to him, it feels like something is jamming my senses, somehow."

She put her hand out in front of her face, like she was trying to see beyond something. "If I ever find a way to cross into Mu somehow, I'll take you with me. I mean, if there _is _a way to reach him, which I'm afraid may not be the case."

Acey suddenly shook her head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry. Nothing I say makes any sense, anyhow, so close your ears to my rambling." To Erin, she sounded awfully like L, for a minute there.

A had been lingering the doorway the whole time, having returned once he'd handled the issue of Kikuri. He was shaking with anger. "Unbelievable!" he spat venomously. "Why would you risk your life and hers just to see _him?"_

After that outburst, he wasn't the only one shaking. The hairs along Wicked's cat prickled as he bared his teeth.

"Whoa, hey, wh-what's with the temper, all of a sudden?"

"Stay out of this! This is none of your business!" A snapped, turning his furious gaze to Acey.

That was enough to make Erin draw back by at least five inches. What a volatile place this House was. She wasn't sure of the exact nature of L's relationship to the residents of Wammy's, past and present, but this creeping, tingling feeling in her gut warned her that A's outburst had something to do with him, since she and Acey had been discussing him just moments upon his abrupt return.

_Acey told me that A cracked under the pressure of getting L's title…wonder if…? _

"No, as long she is with me this is her business, too! This isn't a fight you can win, A. I don't think you understand the full weight of what he did for me," Acey countered calmly. She wasn't angry yet, but it would rise to the surface soon. She would be damned if anyone would speak to her that way.

A scoffed. "You seem to be under the impression he gave a damn about you because he saved your life. Don't think for a second that he wouldn't have left you to die if you weren't of some use to him, because he would've. He only did what he did for his own personal gain and you know it!"

Erin looked to Jaime in the corner, helpless. Wasn't this about the time he stepped in to defend his "lady?"

"Don't make it my problem that you chose your own back door out of life," Acey snapped. She couldn't quite say that what A said was wrong, because it wasn't. Not entirely. "He had the perfect chance to achieve a personal goal in exchange for my life years ago. Hell, I practically handed the opportunity to him, but he didn't take it."

"You still stick up for him, despite how much he used you. It makes me sick." He turned to Erin. "Did you know there wasn't so much as a whisper of his presence when I died? It would've been the same way if B had succeeded in killing her before those three people in Los Angeles, but she's just too brainwashed to believe it."

The instant he said that, it felt as though ten thousand volts coursed through every fiber of Erin's being.

_Three people…Los Angeles…murder…_

…

"H-hold on, a sec," Erin squeaked. "B _killed _people? In L.A.?" By this point, her eyes darted into practically every nook and cranny in the room as her memory fizzled and sputtered. "T-there was something crazy in the media a couple years back about three murder victims in L.A…the L.A. Serial Locked Room Killings. Some guy named Beyond Birthday—_oh my God._"

Erin stumbled so far backwards that she had to cling to the knob of the bathroom door like a lifeline. The memory of reading up on such a gruesome event on the Internet made the knob feel like ice under her touch, adhering her to it.

"No _way. _You're telling me that was B? _B_ was Beyond Birthday? _B _was the guy who did that? Stop me if I'm wrong, please, somebody stop me!" She gagged, "_That _was the 'hobby' he ran off to pursue? Oh my God, oh my God, oh. My. God." She couldn't say much more than that. How could she? Her hand reached over her chest to ball up the fabric of her blouse in her fist, her knuckles pressed against her heart as it thrashed to break out of her sternum.

A laughed a bitter, almost disgusted sort of laugh that clashed with Erin's initial impression of him. "Oh, she kept that from you, huh? She used your naïveté to her advantage. She's more like him than I thought. It's a shame, because there was such a perfect trust in your eyes for her."

Acey lunged to her feet, her fist curled to punch A, but Jaime stepped in between them, swiftly catching her fist in his hand. "M'lady, please stop. Go see to her," he pleaded.

Acey narrowed her eyes in an acidic glare. "Fuck you, A. Fuck you."

She turned to close the distance between her and Erin slowly, as if she were dealing with a scared, distrusting horse. She steadied Erin with both hands on her shoulders. "Erin? Erin, I want you listen to me, all right? I swear on my life I'm not going to let him hurt you. You have to trust me, okay?"

Provided A hadn't destroyed the trust between them already.

"I'm going to protect you, I promise. I'll let him kill me before he lays a finger on you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, understand?" There was a frantic, frightened look in her eyes that clearly conveyed what she was thinking.

_Please! Please don't leave me now! _

In a twisted way, it was understandable that Acey wouldn't have wanted to tell her the truth about B. Erin wouldn't have necessarily wanted to hear it. But now that it had been thrown out into the open, along with the fact that this maniac was now dwelling somewhere _in this very house, waiting in ambush_…Erin realized that there wasn't really very much she could do about it. She couldn't leave, for more reasons than one.

Not to mention, it somehow killed her even more to see Acey look at her like that. It reminded her too much of L when he was sad.

After what felt to her like an eternity, she swallowed hard. "You should call the Ghostbusters, is what you oughta do. I'd rather not have anything to happen to you, either, kid." She said the first part to horse around, an attempt to make the situation a mite easier, but she certainly meant the second part.

Suddenly, she didn't feel all that hungry, anymore.

Erin managed to push herself off the wall, having only a vague idea of what she was doing at this point. She was trying vainly to change the subject. "C-come on, guys. I thought we were all friends. Why all this hatred, all of a sudden?"

"It's not hatred," Acey whispered, leaning up against the wall next to Erin. "Not specifically. It's…"

"Bitterness," A finished for her. Looking away from both girls, he searched for the best way to explain this. "I remember hovering around outside his hotel room, one night. It was a week or two after he'd found the Miss. The Miss walked over to him, and said, 'I want to be close to you, now.' He had such a startled look on his face as she took his legs down off the chair so she could rest her head in his lap. He had such a stupid look on his face. It was after she fell asleep in his lap that I saw his eyes soften for a moment.

"This may not make any sense to you, but I hated the way he looked at her. Never once did he look at me that way. Single-handedly, all in a few seconds, the Miss accomplished what I could never do, if you can understand what I'm trying to say…"

He trailed off, forcing himself to look Erin the eyes, begging her to understand without having to admit it out loud.

And by some sort of miracle on Erin's behalf, she did.

"You wanted him to care about you?"

She reached her arms out in front of her without moving from her spot, as though trying to gather everyone into the room into the hug. "That's nuts. I bet he cared about you as much as he did for Acey. Now, I'll admit, I didn't know him as well or for as long as either of you knew him, but I knew him just enough to say now with no doubt in my mind that he did care. Acey, L didn't always treat you all nicey-nice, did he? He acted like a wad, more often than not, didn't he?"

The girl nodded in affirmation.

"That's right. He was the same way with me, almost. But…he's the reason I'm still here, today, in spite of that. And just because he didn't show up at your funeral, didn't mean he wasn't grieving for you, deep down."

She was only vaguely aware of the fact that she was becoming such a preacher, right now—a preacher preaching to the choir. But she could not find it in her to stop. "He just…I dunno, he didn't know how to show it, I guess. Was it pride? Was it fear? Was it inexperience, or some crazy idea of his to isolate his emotions just so he could do his job? Or was it a little of everything? Who knows? All I know is that he didn't know how to show it when he cared about you. I thought you guys were geniuses; you oughta know better than that."

At this point, Jaime thought it was time to add his two cents. "That's right. L used to say many insensitive things to m'lady, and to Lady Erin, as well. It got to the point where they both almost hit him, though Lady Erin took a much different approach. The reason they had a better response from him than you did was because they could stand up to him. L may have been an imbecile when it came to handling people's feelings, but that didn't take away from the fact that he cared."

…

In the room next door, the phantom pressed his ear against the wall. There had been quite a fight going on there until now. Kikuri sat on the bed next to him, swinging her legs back and forth off the edge.

"I made Onee-sama mad, Nii-chan. It was fun," Kikuri giggled, turning to look up at him. "Are you going to kill them?" Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Her smile suddenly disappeared. She didn't really want her Onee-sama to get killed, or her new friend, for that matter. She remembered how she'd stamped her foot and told him not to ever do that again, but still, she wondered what this place would look like in total chaos.

He absentmindedly reached over to ruffle Kikuri's hair. "No. I have bigger plans than that. But who knows, I could always change my mind."

What he had planned was much worse.

…

Smiling gently, A crossed the room towards Erin. Bending down, he brushed a kiss against her cheek. "Thank you. I can see the Miss is in good hands."

Jaime and Acey turned to the look at the wall at the same time. Frowning, Acey walked up and promptly slapped her hand against it, making the spirit on the other side jump away. Acey prayed the soft, muffled cackle that echoed on the other side went unheard to Erin.

It did. She was too busy pressing a bewildered palm against her flushed cheek, on the spot where A had dropped that peck. What was it with everyone wanting her kiss her cheek, all of a sudden?

"Uh…"

The curt rapping of knuckles against the door turned all of their attention to the doorway. "Sorry if I'm interrupting something, but Near wants to see you both," Mello announced once he'd swallowed his chocolate and invited himself in. The look on his face reflected his annoyance more than adequately enough about being Near's messenger.

"What? Oh. M-morning, Mello," Erin managed to say, suddenly wondering in the back of her mind if he or anyone else in the House were aware of the spirits who dwelled with them, and more importantly, whether they were aware of the ghost of a _serial killer _lurking among them.

Though upon hearing Near's name, those worries had to scoot over to the side-burner. Too many things were happening at once!

"What's that? Near wants to see us? Erm…that's great! I-I'm decent, so I guess we can get that over with. So…where do we find him?"

Gritting her teeth, Acey pinched the bridge of her nose. "What is my room, Grand Central Station? All right, listen up! Everyone whose name is not Erin, get out, now!" She pointed to Jaime and A. "That means you, you!"

Walking over to Mello, she shoved him with a hand on his chest out the door. "And you! Out!"

Mello had to brace against the wall to keep from falling over as Jaime and A scurried from her room. "Hey! Don't shoot the messenger!" he snarled, snapping off another piece of his chocolate. Since Acey barely scaled five feet, he sometimes forgot how strong she was. She could be an unstoppable force when she was annoyed.

"I will if you don't leave now!" she snapped before she slammed the door in his face.

"By the way, tell that bastard to give me back my case! It was mine, first!" Mello hollered from the other side of the door.

Acey delivered a swift kick to the barrier between them to let Mello know she met business before she finally turned to Erin, who was now _incredibly _flustered. "If you thought sibling rivalry was bad, you haven't seen anything until you've seen Near and Mello fight. Or rather Mello try to fight with Near, and Near totally blowing him off. I thought they'd grow out of it, but sadly, they haven't, yet. And they probably never will. I've seen Mello blow a gasket if Near did even one percent better than he did."

"Going out on a limb, here. I'm going to bet that the title's got something to do with that? Is Mello, like, jealous of Near for being the new L?"

Once she'd retrieved a pair of jean with a rip in one of the knees and a black tank top to change into, Acey set about to prepare Erin for meeting Near. There was something she wanted to say to her beforehand.

"Don't feel obligated to answer right away to whatever Near has to offer to you. We at Wammy's play a dangerous game. Mello, Near and I alone have a whole list of people who want us dead a hundred times over, and you'll more than likely acquire one yourself if he offers you a job. So, I would sleep on it for a few days before deciding to get wrapped up with us, all right?"

_Huh? A job? With these guys? Why would old Near want to offer _me_ a job? Probably to keep me under his thumb, since I know so much…_

_Oh yeah. I'd definitely like to sleep on anything he'd want to throw at me. _

"Th-thanks for the warning."

Acey grabbed two jackets from her closet, tossing one to Erin. "After we meet Near, I'll take you down to meet Damien. It's always good to keep a jacket on hand, 'cause it's usually chilly year-round here."

Not knowing what else to say, Erin replied, "Once again, thanks for the warning."

…

Before Erin was aware of it, she had been guided to a massive room in the upper stories of the house, what appeared to her to be a toy room. And Lord, what a toy room! Acres upon acres of hardwood floor leveled by Lego towers, streets of dominoes, stacks of puzzles, and wind-up robots loitering in the free nooks and crannies. Erin found it a wonder how there was even an inch of floor left to stand on in here.

"Whoa! Did the Toys-R-Us giraffe come in and toss his cookies here, or something? Look at all these toys! You kids sure are spoiled, aren't ya!"

_Are these kids playing with me? Why would Near be in here? Well, L liked to mess around with people, so it wouldn't be far-fetched if his protégés liked messing around, too…_

Somewhere in the midst of all this whimsical mess, Erin could make out a hunched, disheveled cotton-white shape nestled in the center of a house of tarot cards under construction. The shape looked like a boy's. A very short boy, almost Acey's size, his too-big pajamas as bleached out as his thick mane of bed-head.

Erin stood on tiptoe and stretched her neck to make him out more clearly inside the tarot scaffolding. Already, something about him was striking a cord in her. But her mouth ran before her brain could establish a connection: "Oh! Hey, kid, I-I didn't see you there, for a second. G'morning! Uhm, we're, uh, looking for someone named Near. Is he in? M-my name is—"

"Erin Blogger. Yes, I've been expecting you. Please do take care to step around everything. I won't be pleased if you knock anything over," Near cut her off, without even looking up to acknowledge her directly.

Acey smirked at Erin. "Now do you understand what Kikuri told you?" She took hold of her elbow. "Follow my steps exactly," she instructed before helping the older girl step, bob, and weave around Near's toys. The ease in which she guided Erin with suggested she'd done this more than once.

Unfortunately, that ease only lasted until a rouge marble rolled under her foot, setting off a chain of events that had chaotic results. Almost like those of a miniature earthquake.

Acey took Erin down with her as she fell, successfully burying them in Legos as they fell into the tower behind them. The marble was sent flying into a line of dominos, knocking all but the front four down.

"He may not look it, but trust me, he's horrified," Acey said once the clattering of falling Legos and dominos ceased. "Well, that sure did suck, but at least we missed the tarot card tower. I know I can't possibly erase the awkwardness of this moment with introductions, but Near, this is Erin. Erin, meet my boyfriend, who I swear has Peter Pan Syndrome."

As soon as Erin could establish that they had in fact survived the ordeal, she found her back pressed against the wall. "Ah! No way! _You're _Near?"

…

Near sure was shorter than she had imagined.

She waved her arms out in front of her as though creating an imaginary force-field to shield her from his wrath. If he had any. "Oh my God, I'm _so _sorry for the mess, kid! _Wait, _I mean sir! I mean Near! I mean L! I mean Near-L-sir-kid—"

Just what on earth was she supposed to call him? He was so short, and rather dumpy-looking. Oh, but the way he practically glowered at her with those glazed, vacant eyes of his…something about his gaze reminded her of the way L had looked at her when she'd thrown the whole kettle of tea at a shinigami.

This boy was the _spitting image_ of L, only shrunken to fun-size and bleached. And not a pastry in sight. The lack of confectionaries was probably the only thing keeping Erin from believing that she was looking at L himself.

Although, in a sense, was that not the intention?

Without putting much rational thought into it, Erin began frantically scooping up Lego blocks to click back together, fever pricking every pore of her face like pins and needles. "H-here! I'll clean this right up!"

Twisting a lock of hair, Near quietly regarded Erin as Acey took her wrist, and made her drop the Legos she'd picked up. "Don't bother," she said, "he'll just go about setting things up again after we leave, so just leave everything where it is."

"Huh? Really? H-he's gonna set all this up by himself? Where does he find the time for that?"

L used to like stacking things, too: sugar cubes, empty coffee cream cups, marshmallows. The meticulousness of this habit had killed her, sometimes. Apparently, this habit had passed down to the Junior.

Acey shot Near a brief look over her shoulder that said, _Be rude to her and I'll rip off your head, in addition to many other things._

So, this was the woman Acey had taken a shine to.

Near had quick, easy ways of obtaining information. In addition to the information Jaime had provided, he'd already gathered everything he'd needed to know about Erin, the previous night.

"In short, Ms. Blogger, I'd like to put your skills to good use," Near began, knocking down the remaining dominos with a casual flick of his fingers before he began lining them up again. "I'd like to put you on retainer as a media informant. You job will be simple. You'll forward anything that turns up in the media concerning the cases that Acey or I may take up. You may not be required to go undercover, seeing as how your espionage skills leave something to be desired."

Erin rubbed the back of her neck, her smile twisted into an odd expression of both shame and disbelief. "Oh. Wow. You just, uh—cut straight to the chase, don't ya? Hm, I know about the espionage thing. You're not the first guy to have said so…"

_God, L, he's even got your straightforwardness. _

She quickly took her hand off of her neck as soon as she realized that it was there. "But other than that, a-are you sure you'd want someone like me in your crew in the first place? I mean, I haven't even told you anything about me: where I live, what I do—I'd prefer it if you didn't go after my family, by the way. I swear, they don't have a clue. I didn't even know you guys existed when I named Lawliet—my cat, I mean."

"All of those things are irrelevant to me, Ms. Blogger. If there was something I'd need to know concerning any of those things, I could find out in mere minutes. Also," Near pointed to Acey, "she isn't the type to trust anyone, not right away, at least. You wouldn't even be in here at Wammy's, much less occupying the same room as I am, if she didn't trust you. If she's trusted you up until this point, I'm fairly certain I can invest the same amount of trust in you."

Biting her lower lip, Acey turned her back to both of them to hide the way her cheeks flushed. _Unbelievable, I've been with him for nearly three years and I still blush like an idiotic schoolgirl at the tiniest compliment from him._

Erin rested her jaw in her hand, rather touched by his words as the sentimental type she was. "Aw, shucks! It's great to know that you think that highly of me, Near. Um, wait…a-am I supposed to call you L?"

A vague yet indisputable sense of apprehension nibbled at her insides like a tapeworm, however. If Near was anything like L, he was sure to be a liar. Something in her had difficulty believing in his words.

_For all I know, he could only be offering me a job so he can keep tabs on me, now that I know him and the others at this place and what they're all about. Even if I said no, would he accept it? Would he and Acey both accept it? _

A chance to work with the world's greatest detective and his group…quite possibly one of the most romantic positions this great blue marble had to offer. The adventure, the travel, the restricted bragging rights to have assisted in solving some of society's greatest cases—

But experience had made her wiser. Or perhaps, more cowardly. Even today, sometimes she couldn't find the border between the two.

"I…I need to think about it, if that's okay. I'm sorry. I mean, I'm honored that you would ever—it's just that, I don't know if I could handle it. I'm not exactly the bravest, or most resourceful. I tend to crack under pressure, and I don't usually do things that would compromise my morals just to reach an end. Like you said, I can't spy for beans. Not to mention, I'm almost certain that working with you guys means I'd have to give up my entire identity, leave my parents behind, always moving from hotel to hotel…"

Erin winced upon replaying her words in her head. Could she get any more pathetic?

"Still, I thank you for the offer! I can't even tell you how great it is to have yours and Acey's confidence."

"Very well, take the week you are here to think about it as much as you need to. If you refuse, I'll just find someone else," Near replied bluntly. He set a few dominos into line. "If you do accept my offer, and you are that hesitant to leave your family, I'd be more than willing to accommodate the situation to your liking."

Quite surprised that Near, L's successor, could actually be the negotiating type, Erin bowed her head. "Really? Ah, thank you for understanding! You know, I couldn't help but notice how you two are keen on looking out for each other. You and Acey. Ha, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you were married! Or at least, engaged."

Glancing up at Erin, Near held up his left hand to indicate a silver band that was identical to the one on Acey's ring finger. "We are engaged, Ms. Blogger. Acey has been my fiancée for quite some time now. In a few years or so, it is my direct intention to make her my wife." After placing a few more dominos in line, he reached up to twist a lock of his hair.

"_Awww,_ really? That's cute!" Erin chuckled. These crazy kids and their games. "Hey, you know what? Maybe I'll come to your wedding; I think I can do that much. Heck, if you don't already have one, I could even be your maid of—"

Before Near could say anything else, Acey approached him. Kneeling down on one knee, Near's long fingers curled under her jaw, and tilted his head up to accept her kiss. Acey only intended it to be a small peck on his lips, but Near didn't let her pull away, making her mouth linger against his with a hand on the back of her neck.

"…hon…or…"

…

That kiss seemed a bit intimate to be one shared in mere jest.

Acey had a dazed look on her face as she made her way back to Erin, the dazed look of a girl head over heels in love. It had felt so good to kiss him again after nearly two months of being apart from him. No matter how many times she kissed him, it still made her see stars, a delicious delirium she could not get enough of.

When she processed what Erin had said, her eyes lit up. Shrieking softly with joy, she threw her arms around her. "Oh, really? I would love it if you were my maid of honor! This means so much to me!"

By that point, Erin could feel her face glow as red as a beacon. "W-wait…are you guys being _serious?_ You're getting married, like, for _real? _You're not—"

"We rarely kid, Ms. Blogger."

…

It was moments like this that made Erin wish it wasn't proper etiquette to have one's hat off while indoors. She sure could've used it. That, and a paper bag.

But now that she had found out they were in fact being serious, she couldn't take back her offer, especially not with the way Acey was looking at her. Her word was her bond.

"Oh. Okay. In that case, I'm being serious, too, about being the—just…be sure to take it nice and slow, I guess. Getting married is…you know, a really big deal and…everything, and…you can't go back once you do it. Not really." What a hot one: giving relationship advice to the world's greatest detective and his girlfriend when she herself was still rather guy-shy.

Acey hugged Erin a little tighter. She was beaming at her when she broke the embrace. "This seriously means so, so much to me. There almost was no maid of honor. Or I would be forced to have Mello wear a dress. A little mascara and eyeliner, and the rest would work itself out." She stifled a giggle with a hand over her mouth. "I'll make sure you catch the bouquet," she added with a wink.

Erin must've turned so red by then, they could've used her face to advertise the Red Light District. "Erm…thank you."

Thinking about her wedding made Acey's heart ache strongly for a moment. Before he'd died, Mr. Wammy would've been the one walking her down the aisle. She suddenly wondered if it would be weird to ask Erin to give her away.

"Was there…anything else that you wanted to discuss, Near? I mean, L? I mean—oh, help me out here, what am I supposed to address you as?" It felt so strange, calling this boy L when he clearly wasn't the L she knew from so long ago, no matter how much his personality resembled his.

She wondered if B had ever tried to pull anything funny on him, too. Or on any of the other kids. After all, wasn't he supposed to bear a grudge against anything and anyone that mattered to L? Did they even know that his restless spirit lurked among them?

"Simply address me as Near, Ms. Blogger," Near replied simply, making one of his robots "swoop" through the air to "attack" Godzilla.

"Before we left, Mello was making a fuss about you taking his case away from him. You wanna tell me what's going on with that?" Acey asked with a hand on her hip.

The way Acey cocked her hip made her tank top ride up, and exposed her tantalizing hip bone, which Near found distracting for a moment. "My reason is quite simple. Mello overlooked something that I didn't."

Acey raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Did you know a man by the name of Victor Chappick?"

Acey's face suddenly turned a little paler. She swallowed audibly before nodding. "Yeah…he was my father's right-hand man before he found out Victor was stealing opium and money behind his back." She could tell Near was concerned about this. It was something serious if he put down his toys.

And frankly, hearing Victor Chappick's name concerned her, too.

Erin didn't know the guy from Adam, and the name made her bladder twitch.

"Apparently, he changed his identity and kept himself well-hidden, and he managed to escape Kira's radar. So far, all of the victims had two things in common: blonde hair, and according to testimonies from people who knew the victims, they were all involved in the occult. I used Aiber in order to apprehend an accomplice—"

"Aiber!" Erin perked at the mentioning of that alias. "_Aiber's_ working with you? Oh man, so he's working with you, now? How is he? H-how's Wedy, too, if she's with you?"

Near answered her question with a very long, glazed look. Almost the same way L used to look at her when she blurted over him.

She begun wringing the sweat out of her hands in her lap. "Aiber was on the…Kira case, too. With L. That's how I know him," she mumbled.

"…I'll be sure to give him and Wedy your regards," said Near, leaving Erin unsure whether he was being sarcastic with her or he truly meant that. "As I was saying, it didn't take much time to get him to tell me what I needed to know. Victor Chappick is the killer, and he is trying to find and kill you, Acey."

Near glanced at Erin. "I'm sure you can see my reasoning in taking the case from Mello. Anything that directly concerns my fiancée in this manner concerns me. I may ask you to take Acey back to New York with you for a while until I apprehend Chappick."

Acey had to brace a hand against the wall for support. Swaying a little bit, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. She was understandably quiet.

"Huh? W-wait, you mean, like, you _may _ask me, or you _will _ask me? As in, to have her live with me until you catch this guy?"

_Oh, great. Now I really DO gotta deal with the mafia, too? Last thing I want to do is bring home anything that could hurt my folks, especially since they've got nothing to do with anything. But…_

This was the trouble with meeting with people like L. They became deeply ingrained into your life, placing it on the razor edge where you normally would've had no business to be, in the first place. But oh, the look on poor Acey's face…

Erin reached over to squeeze her shoulder, swallowing the bile rising up her throat. "Well…if I really had to, maybe I could make something up to my folks. Tell 'em that she was exchange student looking for a place to stay awhile, or something. But it would be awfully helpful if you caught this guy before then."

After a brief, tense pause, she decided to add, "Not trying to tell you how to do your job or anything, but maybe you don't have to take old Mello off this case. M-maybe you could, I don't know, put your differences aside and work together on it? You would close this case so much sooner with two melons working on it instead of one. Not to mention, I think it would make him feel better. He seemed really unhappy about it…"

One more pause.

"While we're on the subject of serial killers, did you know that you've got a crazy dead one running around here, too? A ghost, I mean? Last night, he tried to slice some kid's foot off with a pair of scissors. You might want to do something about that, too."

Acey rose to her feet, all of a sudden. "He knows. And Mello would sooner cut off his fingers than work together with Near." Reaching into her jacket pocket, she extracted her cigarettes, and perched one between her lips. News of Victor Chappick warranted a cigarette, as far as she was concerned.

Being considerate of Erin, Acey tiptoed through the masses of toys scattered in ruins around them and headed for the door, deciding to smoke in the hallway. She took a long drag after she lit it. Tilting her head up, she paused in the doorway, exhaled, and said, "Erin, you don't gotta worry about hiding me in your house. If it comes down to it, I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. I can't ask you to burden yourself or your family for my sake."

_Click. _

Near sighed, maneuvering Godzilla to "knock" the robot out of the air with his tail before glancing up at the door. "You have to understand, Acey is very proud and stubborn."

Erin swallowed. "Uh…yeah. I can see that. Birds of a feather, huh?" All of these kids were proud and stubborn; she could expect nothing less from students of L's.

But that was what worried her. It was L's sense of pride and stubbornness that precipitated his downfall, as Light's had brought about his own. Stubbornness and pride were the reasons why B's spirit haunted Wammy's House. Why Mello and Near were rivals. Why Acey had just walked out for a cigarette, in spite of the numerous times she'd gazed at her with eyes that pleaded her not to leave her.

Why, even she had suffered for her own stubbornness in the past. Erin's may not have gotten her killed—yet—but she couldn't even begin to measure all the trouble and grief it had found her, all the same.

"Does…she do that, a lot?"

Erin wished Acey would come back in soon, preferably without a cigarette in her tiny mouth. B could've been out there harassing her, or someone else. She was vulnerable, no matter which way either of them looked at it, and it was for this reason that her abrupt departure from the room killed Erin.

Perhaps because L had been almost the same way.

Near could tell that Erin was extremely worried about Acey. The string of fate had tied them together, and they would be in each other's lives until the very end. He had little doubt that it may have been L's intention to put the girls in each other's hands.

"Yes, she does. Acey only pushed you away like that just now because she knows better than anyone else that Chappick is a dangerous criminal, and she would rather face him head-on on her own than put you in danger," Near explained, picking up another tarot card deck. He shuffled it before laying three cards face down on the polished hardwood floor.

"However, I still would like for you to keep Acey safe for me until I apprehend Chappick. I wouldn't want to get your family involved, so I will could arrangements for you and Acey to go stay in the safe-house L has in New York."

Near flipped the three cards over, out of Erin's view: the Lovers, Strength, and Justice.

"L had a _what?_" A dull shiver danced down her backbone. To think that L himself could've been, at one point or another, in her own neighborhood at least once…was a bit unsettling, to say the least. She didn't know why it felt unsettling exactly, since that definitely sounded like something that maniac would do, but it did.

All she had to say to this was, "Oh."

…

"Near, you don't have a problem working with Mello, do you? Surely, you guys can work something out?"

Maybe, if the two weren't such crazy geniuses. Erin had seen firsthand how guys like them usually got along together. Between this, Chappick, Acey's persecution from the other residents, and B, she no longer knew which issue to focus on. It was a wonder all by itself how these problems even came to become hers, in the first place.

"I myself don't have a problem with working with Mello. Rather, he has a problem working with _me._ He generally likes to make his inferiority complex my problem. I'm afraid us working together would be difficult, if not impossible."

An inferiority complex, huh?

Hmm…it was a stretch, a _long _stretch, but maybe…?

"Well then, I guess somebody will have to reason with him. The way I see it, he'll just get more and more resentful about the whole thing if he doesn't get involved, and I think you two could catch this Chappick fella together in a heartbeat. Maybe Acey and I could talk to him, or at least Acey. I've only just met him, so I don't think he's too keen on trusting me right now, but he and Acey seem pretty tight. Him and her and that other guy…Matt, right?"

Near stood up, and started to make his way around his toys toward the door. His gait was stiff but steady and slow, the kind usually found in folks who spent much of their time sitting down. "I would appreciate it of you and Acey could try and reason with him. It would be beneficial for me to have his help. I know for a fact the power of persuasion of a woman is powerful; two women would be unstoppable."

Erin tugged lightly at the collar of her blouse. "Oh, well, I…uh, hey. Where're you going?"

Opening the door, Near walked towards Acey, who was blowing wispy tendrils of smoke from her lips towards the ceiling. He caged her against the wall with his hands on either side of her head. Cupping her jaw, he stroked her lower lip with his thumb before leaning down to kiss her roughly on the lips.

The way he was kissing her blew Acey's mind, sapping the strength from her knees. Had he demanded to have her right there and then against the wall, she wouldn't have put up a fight.

As she moaned against his mouth, Near took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. Cupping one of her breasts, he stroked her nipple outside her tank top with his thumb, teasing it to the point of hardening while he thoroughly explored her mouth. The cigarette, once dangling from her fingers, dropped uselessly to the floor without a sound.

Acey was left feeling breathless with want when Near pulled away. She grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him in for another kiss. He smirked. He had her right where he wanted her. "Let me protect you," he demanded softly. "If I haven't apprehended Chappick by this weekend, you are to go to with Ms. Blogger to L's New York safe-house. Is that understood?"

Acey nodded weakly.

She wasn't the only one feeling dazed. However, she and Erin were not dazed for the same reason.

Well, that was _one_ thing that set Near apart from L.

Erin hastily shielded her eyes in the palms of her hands, shrinking against the threshold as she squealed, "Aw, guys, c'mon! I'm sorry, but h-have a little class! I'm standing right here!" Not quite the most polite thing to say to a pair of lovers, but on the other hand, Erin didn't step out into hallways to watch people make out.

"If you didn't like what you were seeing, you could've averted your eyes, Ms. Blogger," Near replied, taking up a lock of Acey's hair to twist around his finger. "There's no need to be so serious." It was a bit shocking, how cool-headed the boy was about the whole thing. Just like someone else the three of them used to know.

"A-avert my eyes? What's it look like I'm doing, right now?" Erin never took her hands off her eyes; she peeked through the cracks between her fingers as she fumbled past them to pick up Acey's cigarette before it could set anything ablaze. These kids were nuts.

Meanwhile, the conservative in her hoped that however exactly far these two took their relationship, that they were at least being safe. She realized that teenagers did things like this all the time, all around the world, but it killed her, all the same. She dared not speak any further on the matter. That was none of her business, nor did she want it to become her business. She'd had too many problems that had become her business, already.


	8. 02: 2

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, ****Ken'ichi Kanemaki's **_**Hell Girl. **_

_**02-2**_

Erin had yet to see a bigger and more beautiful horse than the one gazing back at them from over the door to his stable. As she tugged her jacket tighter around herself, she didn't shiver simply from the cold.

The chestnut stallion nickered in greeting, gazing at Erin curiously as she ambled down the aisle next to his owner. His owner didn't have many friends, and the girl didn't look like Mello, Matt or Near, so who was she?

Acey grinned happily when she saw her horse. "Erin, meet Damien, my true Prince Charming if you know what I mean."

Damien reached over to bat his nose gently against Erin's hand. Afraid that any sudden movements could startle the animal, Erin flinched before easing her hand into her pocket. She fumbled with the tiny clusters of lint collecting inside as she tittered, "Your Prince Charming, huh? I thought that was what you had Near for." She didn't hesitate to push the image of Acey canoodling in the hallway with said boy towards the darkest closet in the back of her mind. With so many other things occupying it, this task was fairly easy.

With her free hand, she waved her fingers in a timid salute. "He's gorgeous, though, there's no denying that. Hi, Damien. N-nice to, um, make your acquaintance. I'm Erin, like she said." Erin made sure to speak as softly as she could while in his presence. The musky scent of hay and horse and grain and wood shavings seemed like a strange, foreign incense of sorts in nostrils of a city girl like her. "Acey, is it…okay to pet him? He doesn't, like, bite or anything, does he?"

_You moron, that's dogs_, her conscience rebuked her. _You're acting like you've never seen a horse before or something. _

_Yeah, well, when you've got a mobster and the ghost of a serial killer and everybody else breathing down your neck, horses are sort of the last thing on the old brain, aren't they? _

"Give me your hand," Acey coaxed, taking Erin's hand. She guided it to Damien's velvety muzzle, smoothing it down up his muzzle and down her neck. Closing his eyes, Damien sighed contently, resting his head against Erin's shoulder, completely eating up all the attention he was getting.

"See?" Acey grinned at Erin, reaching up to scratch Damien behind his ear with her free hand. "He's just a big sweetie, isn't he?"

Acey's demeanor had undergone a complete 180 around her animal friend. The expression in her eyes was a lot softer, and she was less reserved. She was completely relaxed and happy. It was obvious that horses brought out the very best in her. Horses _and _cats.

"It's relaxing, isn't it?" She said, resting her forehead against Damien's, breathing out her own sigh of content.

"Yeah. I guess so," said Erin, keeping as still as possible until the horse drew away. "Animals are kinda funny, aren't they? It's like, no matter how badly you screw up or how often, they never seem to hold it against you. And they're the least likely to go behind your back or sell you out. I guess that's why they make such great friends."

She paused to inhale the rustic potpourri wafting around them for a moment.

"So, what're we gonna do about Mello? I really think it would be to everyone's benefit if he and Near busted this Chappick guy together."

Acey combed her fingers through Damien's mane as she considered her answer. "I'm going to let Near handle it as he sees fit," she replied, shrugging. "Since he made it apparent that I'm in no way involved in the workings of the case. Although I'm pretty sure Mello isn't going to let this fly without a fight. It may not seem that way to you outright, but once Mello hears what Near discovered, I know he'll want to protect me just as much as Near does, and I know Matt will try and get his hand in it, as well."

A strange warmth filled Erin's chest from her diaphragm to her throat, of the bittersweet variety. She briefly wondered if the younger girl was still a little high from that kiss earlier. "You guys sure are keen on looking out for each other, aren't you? Well, then, shouldn't that be all the more reason that they work together? Maybe we should talk to old Mello? Or at least, you. He seems to trust you enough to listen to what you have to say. If I know anything at all about guys, it's that they're not very good at settling arguments civilly. Especially if they're geniuses."

"You're right. I think we should give talking to him a shot. And I mean both of us. I think together we'd be effective," Acey replied, shooting Erin a confident smile. "It's too bad we couldn't team up against L together. I think we would've made a good team."

Erin didn't answer to her, right away. It was strange: after all of this time, if she ever so much as heard L's name being mentioned, if his letter ever crossed her mind, she felt funny. It was a feeling that she couldn't call bad, and not quite a feeling she would call good, either. But she certainly couldn't call it neutral. Neutral was no feeling at all. And if there was one thing L never was, it would've been someone that one could be completely neutral towards, despite his seemingly cool, neutral demeanor. He drove everyone he came into prolonged contact with crazy, somehow, whether he'd intended to or not.

No, if Erin was forced to apply an adjective in order to describe the feeling L gave her, even in death, the most accurate would have to be "bittersweet." "Bittersweet" seemed very appropriate to describe her feelings towards L, in more ways than one.

Erin resolved to trailing two ginger fingers down Damien's face, feeling more comfortable around the horse in her pensiveness. All she could say was, "Hm. Maybe. We'd have been a riot."

Acey stepped away from Damien, cocking her head to study Erin. Before the older girl had come into her life, she'd found it hard to even mention L's name after his death. She'd felt so lost without him. He'd always been a constant in her life, from day one. He'd been the first person she'd seen when she'd come to his hotel.

She'd known that she would eventually have to branch off from L once he'd taught her all that he could. All of the kids at the House knew this. But his dying so early had not been the way she'd wanted that to happen.

Acey took a step back, like she was going to bolt from the barn. Instead, she stepped forward, and folded Erin in her arms. "It's okay to still miss him, you know," she said softly, standing on tiptoe so as to bury her face in the crook of Erin's receptive neck. "I do, all the time. We all do."

Maybe if Erin had met Acey and L at a completely different time, in a place somewhere out of their reach, in a world without Kira, then just maybe, it would've been the three of them together forever.

A part of her continued to feel lost, empty, like an old wound that time had sewn up but still throbbed when one poked at it. And she knew it was okay to feel that way, too.

Instinct guided Erin to loop an arm around the younger girl's neck. How fragile she looked from down there, her little blonde head snuggled in the crook of her neck.

Almost like him.

…

"So, what does Mello usually do during the day?" Erin asked when they headed back for the warm sanctuary that was indoors.

Acey shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket when she felt the feathery fingertips of a chilly drizzle begin to tap the top of her head. "He sulks around eating chocolate, always studying, hell-bent on beating Near. It's been like that for years," Acey replied as she pulled her hood up over her head.

Pausing in mid-step, she tilted her face up into the rain. Raising her hand to the overcast sky, she extended her fingers as though trying to catch something in her hands. She felt it, the presence of Mu all around her and Erin. A sense of emptiness that neutralized all feeling, even the cold splash of rain, that seeped into one's soul and made them feel as though they were standing in an isolated space somewhere in eternity that elicited neither fear nor ecstasy. Just complete stillness.

Almost like a sense of peace.

After a few moments, she feebly dropped her hand. Was he watching them, right now, with the same amount of diligence as he'd had in life?

"There would definitely be something wrong if they even had one civil conversation." Closing her eyes, she let the drizzle dot her face.

_Please, L, don't worry about us. Erin and I are doing fine now. It'll still take a lot of time for us to heal, but we'll be all right, I promise. I have this feeling that as long as we are together, we'll be just fine. _

_But, is it okay for us to worry about you? _

"Mello should be eating dinner in the cafeteria with Matt, so how about we go get ourselves some dinner, seeing as how we haven't eaten all day. I should warn you, though: food gets thrown on a daily basis, so if someone throws food at you, just pitch it right back at them. It's actually quite fun, and we all usually band together with a common goal to hit Roger once or twice."

Kid prodigies that held food fights, just like normal kids. That killed Erin. She pulled up the collar of her jacket. "So you guys have food fights? Uh…that's great, Acey! I think. But I don't think I could join in. I…can't really throw stuff as well as I used to, 'cause of that thing I told you about. Nah, I'm more like the type who'd duck under the table until there was a ceasefire. I fully admit it."

Her fingers on her left hand twitched in feeble testimony. Perhaps if something like _B _were to pop up, she'd consider it. But, here was to hoping that it wouldn't come to that.

"How long has…B been haunting your place?" Was she supposed to call him B, or Beyond, now? "Should I watch out for him at dinner? And that Kikuri girl, too?"

Acey laughed, gently taking Erin's hand, stroking her knuckle with her thumb to calm its twitching. "Don't worry, I got your back, babe. It's all right to duck and cover. As for Kikuri, you won't have to worry about her at all, I promise."

Her thumb stopped stroking Erin's knuckle. "Kira killed him in prison about four years ago, so I suppose since then. I was asleep, and I woke up to a dead Beyond standing over me, dripping strawberry jam on my face."

Erin felt her appetite reduce to a ball of gravel sifting through her stomach. Did ghosts even _need _food? "God, how do you put up with that gas fume of psychotic PS on a regular basis?"

How long had it been since she'd used that phrase, "PS?"

Acey licked her dry lips, and shrugged. "I don't know, honestly." She didn't mean to sound so vague. She took her hand from Erin's and put it on her shoulder. "Don't worry, you won't have to look after me. Victor Chappick will be dead if Near doesn't catch him."

She paused as a slight wind combed its icy fingers through their hair. "We look out for our own. He doesn't stand a chance, I'm afraid. I hope he rots with both my parents in hell, I really do."

Victor Chappick didn't stand a chance against Beyond Birthday.

_Probably because he'd want to destroy her first before letting someone else do the job? _

Hanging her head, Acey was glad her hair covered her face to hide the smile that twisted the corners of her lips.

Erin still knew relatively little about the relationship these kids had between them, but maybe, underneath all of the bitterness, they did love each other. It was just a painful kind of love, the kind that cut and mangled and bruised and burned, the kind that drove everyone involved insane, the only kind that these kids knew of. The kind that someone like her could easily interpret as hatred.

"That's not a very nice thing to say," she murmured. "I mean, I'll take your word for it that this Chappick guy is bad news, but I wouldn't necessarily, you know, want him to rot in hell. I certainly wouldn't want that for my own parents, even if they didn't treat me as well as they should've. After all, if nothing else, your mom and dad did make you. And…as far as I'm concerned, from what you've already told me about them, they'd already made up their own hell in this life; they couldn't be punished any more if they tried."

Erin closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of rain. "I think that applies to all the bad people in the world. I used to know a kid who thought otherwise. And he wound up becoming Kira."

Acey's smile didn't quite reach her eyes when she looked up at her companion. "Like I said before, you shouldn't listen to even half of what I say, because I hardly make any sense, anyhow. Now, let's go eat, shall we?"

Why did that sound so familiar…?

She really hoped Erin didn't think poorly of her, but perhaps the only way she would understand what she'd meant was if she had nowhere to run but back the way she came, back headlong into everything she'd been trying to escape in the first place.

Beginning to sense her apprehension, Erin waved a hand out in front of her. "Uh, hey, I wasn't trying to compare you to him, I hope you know that." Even now, after all of this time, she still couldn't decide whether to call her deceased friend by his birth name for his criminal name. She didn't _want_ to call him Kira, but having had to keep his secret hidden from everyone she knew since she'd returned home from Japan, something would not allow her to address him as Light, either. Not without a fight.

…

They had climbed up the stoop and reached the front doors of the House, by this time. Again, finding herself at a stifling loss for words, Erin cleared her throat and asked meekly, "So, uh, what's on the menu for tonight?"

Acey tapped her lower lip thoughtfully with her index finger, and shrugged. "We really don't have a set menu here, but don't worry, Ms. Madge is a good cook. When I first got here, I never ate dinner with everyone else. I tripped in the hallway one day and bumped into a group of girls. They screamed bloody murder when they saw Jaime, so I always waited until after curfew to go get my dinner, figuring going down to the cafeteria would make their fear of me even worse. Ms. Madge always left a plate out for me."

"It was actually Matt that coaxed me into coming down to eat. I went outside after the dinner bell rang to read. Matt was already out there having a cigarette under the tree I usually sat under, like he was waiting for me. After we shared a cigarette, he offered me his hand and told me he thought my power was cool, and it reminded him of a character in a video game. He has the type of smile that would make anyone follow him anywhere."

She smiled fondly as she recalled the memory. How warm and reassuring Matt's hand felt against hers, the way she bickered with Mello when he told how pathetic she'd looked sneaking down to the kitchen every night. She would cherish that memory forever.

"You know," she laughed, "I think that was around the time Near suddenly started showing up at dinner to for some mysterious reason." She air-quoted the words "mysterious reason."

Erin blinked at her, willing away the blush rising to her cheeks upon recalling Near's behavior. "Dinner," indeed. "Well, I guess prodigies have to eat, too. They need all the brain-power they can get, especially if they've got a job like the one Near has. Or the one…L used to have…"

After yet another thoughtful pause, she frowned. "Haven't you ever, um, tried to reach out to the other kids? You know, prove to them that you're not dangerous, in spite of your power? Judging by how those kids greeted you when we came here, I'm guessing that they're either blockheads for geniuses, or…"

She didn't want to say, "you haven't been trying hard enough," but what other explanation could there be?

Acey vehemently shook her head as the two stepped inside. "Nope, I haven't. Because L was the only thing that mattered. It was the same way with pretty much all of us. He was the only one worthy of our respect and adoration. L believed in me, and if he was the only person that did, then that was just fine. If everyone wanted to remain ignorant of me, then I would be ignorant of them, too. Although…"

She clasped her hands behind her, and tilted her head up towards the ceiling with a bittersweet smile on her face. "I would like for people to remember me when that demon eventually gets the one up on me and kills me. I don't want to be forgotten."

She talked about her dying so calmly, like she'd already accepted some inevitable death.

"You won't forget me, will you, Erin?" she asked, peeking over at the girl in question.

Oh, _now _what was she prattling on about? What demon? B? Chappick? Some other sinister entity she had neglected to tell her about? Or merely her own inner demon that everyone seemed to have? Acey seemed to have quite the penchant for speaking in riddles, like her late mentor. They were almost as morbid as his, too, if not more so.

A long time ago, Erin might've said something along the lines of, "Oh, you're too young to talk like that. It's not like you're gonna die tomorrow." But that was the Erin who had once perceived death to be as distant as the fantasy world in the silver screen. That was the Erin who used to think that death was only for the old and gravely ill.

It was a frightening thing, becoming aware of the reality of death, how it eventually caught up to everyone, sooner for some than others.

_Please, make the most out of it when you leave here. Okay?_

Erin's reply was slow and deliberate, a rare instance for her: "No. I couldn't forget you even if I wanted to. I'm more of a forgiver than a forgetter. Besides, I don't consider you one of those types you can _ever _forget, once you meet them, no matter how much time you actually spend with them."

Just like certain other people she used to know.

"But I think you would be a lot better off trying to reach out to the other kids, especially since L is…you know. I mean, you've lived and grown up with them and all, so…"

An idea was beginning to hatch in the back of her mind that she decided not to voice to Acey for the time being, the main reason being that she was unsure of how well it would work. Roger didn't seem very crazy about her, so perhaps he wouldn't listen. And none of the other residents of Wammy's knew her at all, hardly. She was no prodigy, much less a young one, so maybe they wouldn't take her seriously?

Still, someone had to do it. With L gone, these kids would need each other to lean on, even if their relationship was generally dysfunctional. And ghosts and pets could only do so much as companions.

…

In Erin's eyes, the cafeteria looked more like a banquet hall out of a fairy tale. When she wasn't busy admiring the high ceilings or elegant windows or hardwood floor, the warm, wafting aroma of something scrumptious moistened her mouth.

The entire was a flurry of activity as children gathered around two long tables lined with various foods. Acey grabbed two plates and passed one to Erin. "Take your pick, babe. It looks like chicken and dumplings tonight, with the usual fruits and sweets as well. We never go hungry here."

"N-no kidding! This all looks like something outta the freaking Food Network™! Oh, pardon my French." Her upbringing had taught her that there were many places one could swear, but the dining table was not one of those places. At any rate, her appetite had returned just enough to take two chicken legs and six dumplings, so far. She almost felt awful for dismembering the dishes like this, since they looked so nice and all. Like culinary works of art.

When she approached the side-dishes, Erin ventured to ask a boy if she should go for the stuffing or succotash, only to have the boy continue alongside the table without so much as a glance. Perhaps he hadn't heard her? Or maybe…

She tried not to make her wilt too apparent. Of course. She was still an outsider. How could she forget?

"Oh. Okay…stuffing, then. I'm not too hot for lima beans, anyhow."

Acey frowned. If anybody knew how that felt, it was her. For a moment, she kind of that wished Erin had come here with someone else. Her being an outsider here was hard enough, and the fact that she was accompanying Acey would make it twice as hard for her to be accepted.

She stopped heaping food onto her plate to place a hand on Erin's shoulder. "Don't take it personally. _Everyone_ goes through the same thing here. Think of things here as like being in a wolf pack: you start at the very bottom and work your way up the order."

Except that their alpha wolf was dead.

Acey grinned, deciding to carry on with her analogy and have a little fun with it. "But, since I'm the mate to the current alpha, that also makes me a leader of the pack, and since you are with me, you automatically rank near the top."

Erin blushed in response. "And then we'll huff and puff and blow the house down." She wasn't quite sure why she'd said that. Horsing around in order to feel better, she supposed.

Speaking of huffing and puffing…

"What's wrong with Mr. Roger?"

Erin squinted to bring into the focus the following scene from across the room: Roger looming over Mello and Matt's places at the table, rebuking them as though he had a bee zipping around in his underwear. Both boys were resting their jaws in their hands as they glared back at their headmaster with glazed expressions: one sour, the other simply bored. She thought she could see Jaime standing by the window, watching it unravel with the most amused of smirks (she'd been wondering where that old ghost had fluttered off to).

Upon catching her gaze, Jaime winked at Erin, and bowed.

"Oh, he probably caught Mello with a chocolate bar at the table, again. Or Matt with a game. Or both," said Acey dismissively. "He has this rule where no one's allowed to have any dessert until after they've had dinner. Not that we always follow it, though. Not always."

Acey covertly reached behind her with a spoon to scoop a little bit of chocolate ice cream on it. As if he had a built-in sensor, Roger turned to catch her in mid-lick. Twirling the spoon ambidextrously between her fingers, she hid the spoon behind her back and waved at Roger, shooting him an innocent smile.

"Come on, let's go sit with the boys." Stealing another spoonful of ice cream when Roger wasn't looking, she picked up her plate and headed over to the table Mello and Matt were sitting at. Erin trailed after her like a turtle crossing a busy strip of highway, ready to shrink into her metaphorical shell at the next hint of trouble.

The old man looked pretty out of it. Ever since she'd been here, he'd always seemed so harried, his patience receding almost as rapidly as his hairline was: the polar opposite of Watari/ Quillish Wammy.

As soon as they reached Mello and Matt, Erin opened her mouth to invite Jaime to sit with them, only to snap her mouth shut, like a trout. She leaned over Acey's small form and whispered, "Uh, Acey? Does everyone else here—I mean, besides you, me and Near—know about Jaime? It'd be kinda hard to talk to him if they don't."

Acey opened her mouth to answer her, but Matt cut in: "Of course we know about him. See?" Acey barely had time to put her plate down before Matt stood up to demonstrate by wrapping his arms around her, lifting her off the ground in a big hug.

Mello rolled his eyes at Erin. It was obvious that he still regarded her with some distrust. "That should go without saying. We can't touch her without seeing him. She keeps human contact strictly between the three of us…well, four, now, including you."

Jaime took this as his cue to come forward before Matt made too much of scene. "I suggest that you avoid letting Sir Near see you hugging Lady Acey like that," he said reproachfully, frowning at Matt.

Acey kept her arms around Matt when he set her back down on the ground. She closed her eyes contently.

_Erin. Near. Mello. Matt. Jaime. Wicked. A. They are all I ever need in this world. But this list will always be incomplete. You have no idea how much I still wish you were here, L. _

When the girls took their seats, Erin briefly debated sitting by Mello, but decided to sit with Matt, in the end. Perhaps he would become more distrustful of her if he picked up on this purposeful avoidance, but she simply couldn't eat while having those cold blue eyes drilling holes into her head, the entire time. As Acey sat by Mello, Erin settled between her and the young gamer, unfolding the napkin over her lap. Every movement she made was slow and deliberate…or perhaps the correct word would've been timid.

Unsure of what to do next, she peered at her companions, then scanned the entirety of the room, then back at her companions. "So…what next? Do we say grace?"

She wondered if Near would be joining them. She'd had yet to see him anywhere in the dining room, and the solid white that defined him would've surely made him stand out among the other kids.

Acey poked at her chicken with her fork. "Actually, most of us sort of dumped the concept of religion at the door when we got here. Mello is really the only one who's religious, so it's up to you if you want to say grace with him or not."

"Actually, I have something to say," Jaime cut in, glancing apologetically at Mello. "During my absence, A and I went and saw the Council. The Headman has offered to take you, Lady Acey, into protective custody until Victor Chappick is dealt with appropriately. After some debate, they also permitted Lady Erin to accompany you if wish."

Acey bit the inside of her cheek. The look she gave Jaime more than adequately displayed her disapproval of his pleading to the Council on her behalf. "You can tell the Headman that I don't need the Council's protection," she replied curtly.

Mello pounded his fist against the table, startling everyone. "There you go again," he seethed, "pulling the same stubborn bullshit where you won't let _anyone_ protect you! I know you well enough to know what you're thinking, Acey. As soon as Chappick was located, you were going set off on your own without telling us to deal with him yourself! Well, am I right?"

Acey held up a hand to silence Jaime from interjecting, keeping her eyes focused down on the table. It was true. Even if Chappick were to be located tonight, she would've left Erin in Jaime's hands and struck out on her own.

Suddenly, Mello barked at Erin, "Well? You're supposed to be her friend too, so speak!"

Oh, nuts. Even from a distance, the boy was putting her on the spot. She had only just learned of Chappick's existence that morning, and even then, she still knew very little about the situation. What did he expect her to say? Perhaps he was testing her? She wouldn't have put it past him to. L had been almost the same way; he'd just been less direct about it than Mello.

The fact that most everyone in the room was staring in their direction didn't help matters. The entire dining room became like the inside of a furnace on her skin. Since she'd arrived here, it felt that way quite often, probably because of all the daily drama.

Taking a leap of faith on her own behalf, she waved her hands like white flags. "Hey-hey-hey-hey! Let's just cool our jets for a while, huh? Why are we fighting? At the dinner table, of all places? I thought we were, y-you know, all friends here. We look out for each other, don't we?"

Partly to avoid Mello's gaze, but mostly to get Acey's attention, Erin peered at the girl in question. "I mean this in the nicest way I can mean something: you're strong, kid, but even the strong types should know their limits. And accept them." She was trying to hint at the various times when she had witnessed Acey's moments of weakness since they'd met without explicitly referring to them in front of anyone else. She could only hope that Acey knew what she was talking about. "Don't you think that—one, two…"

She stopped to count off every head involved in this stifling conversation, plus the one who was absent. "…_six _have a better chance against that madman Chappick than one?" Erin had counted herself in on more of an act of impulse. Honestly, what could she do to help the problem in any significant way other than to keep the poor girl company?

Jaime solemnly hung his head, not bothering to put a word in edge-wise. If his lady told him not to speak, then he wouldn't. Unfortunately, the only person who could truly make her reason was no longer a part of this world. Sometimes, he wondered if Lady Acey trusted _anybody_ in the end.

Meanwhile, Acey decided to quickly diffuse this situation for Erin's sake. She could practically taste how uncomfortable she was. "The last time someone tried to protect me, they died. I'll be damned if I let that happen again. End of discussion."

When she flicked her eyes up at Erin, her fingertips reached out to brush against her hand. "Although, it would be selfish of me to leave you at this point, wouldn't it?"

Jaime was absolutely stunned. He didn't think Erin was aware of what she was really doing. She was picking up where L had left off: teaching Lady Acey how to reach out to someone.

Erin tapped her forehead with her free hand in mild exasperation, as well as anxiety. Poor little girl; as much as she did care about her, that "come here, go away" attitude of hers could give her a headache, among several other aches. She had to wonder if she'd picked some of that up from her late mentor. He'd acted almost the same way when it came to relating to others, even if he'd had at least an ounce of trust in them.

"Yeah. Yeah, it would, k-kinda. But, like I said, there are six of us, at least. If we all _banded together,_ there's no way that Chappick fella could make even a scratch."

She did not simply direct this to Acey when she'd said that. Hopefully, the little blonde rage-and-chocoholic would hear it, too, a stretch as it was.

Acey could tell Near was coming just by the look on Mello's face. That, and Near carried a presence that commanded attention all on its own. Ultimately, she knew she was defeated, now. Next to L, Near was the only one who could keep up with her. If their relationship was going to work, he'd always need to be one step ahead of her.

Of course, she'd been looking for somebody who could be one step ahead of her from the get-go. It was just much more fun that way.

No matter how many times she'd tried to "get away" from him, he never let go of her, not once. The only difference between him and L was that L had always given her a head-start before he caught up with her; he'd just let her "run" until she got tired.

"There is a big difference between talking about it and actually making it out the door, Acey," Near deadpanned. He knew that she knew that she wouldn't be making it out of Wammy's now. "You can try to your heart's content, if you wish, but I'll always be one step ahead of you. Your efforts would be futile."

Mostly for the sake of finding a distraction to push the attention towards, Erin perked up and grinned at the boy. "Aw, hey, Near! We were wondering if you were gonna join us!" She scooted to her right and pulled out a chair so as to provide a space between her and Acey.

Erin couldn't help but notice the peculiar way Near sat as soon as he'd taken the seat—just after how the tension in the atmosphere seemed to condense into storm clouds hovering above their on Mello's part. He did not sit like L, though. When L sat in a chair, he crouched in it, like a monkey or an eagle or some other animal that crouched or perched, with his knees drawn up to his chest and hands cupped over his knees. With Near, one knee was drawn into his chest, while the other leg dangled to keep a foot on the floor. It almost seemed as though no matter what stance Near assumed, he had to maintain contact with the floor in order to function.

Perhaps _not _having contact with the floor reduced his deductive skills by forty percent, just like what L had claimed would happen if he sat normally? Erin couldn't help but crack up a little inside as she made the connection, in more ways than one.

As if she'd sensed it, Acey leaned around Near and smiled softly at her. "Hey, after dinner, I got to go out to feed the horses. After dinner, you can go back up to my room and chill out for a bit. If you need anything, you know where Near will be, and Mello and Matt are three doors down, all right?"

If Beyond Birthday wasn't there waiting for her, Acey would've taken Erin with her. She was almost one hundred percent sure Beyond wasn't going to hurt her, yet. He just wanted to talk. But Erin needn't get involved with him, if she could help it.

Erin quirked an eyebrow. "Huh? Well, I don't know much about horse-raising, but I can always go out there with you and help; then we could get it done quicker. Don't want you freezing your tush out there by yourself. Heck, why not we all go out? You, me and the boys? We could make it a family affair."

In an act of chivalry, Matt cut in to rescue Acey. "Say, speaking of family, you are one of us now, Erin, so it's only right that you formerly introduce yourself when we toast to Acey's recent accomplishments." Shooting Erin a handsome smile, he extended an arm to put around her. "Plus it'd be a shame if your pretty behind got frozen as we—"

"Uh…"

_Smack!_

Jaime delivered a firm smack to Matt's hand. His arm never made it around Erin. "Hands off," he growled, narrowing his eyes defensively at Matt.

Acey stifled a laugh as Matt nursed the chill from his hand. With the distraction he'd created, perhaps she could duck out of here if she moved now to avoid being here for the toast. Unfortunately, she didn't move fast enough. As soon as she stood up to make a run for it, Mello grabbed the hood of her jacket, and Near hooked an arm around her waist at the same time.

Oh, _now _what was going on? Erin didn't know whether to direct her attention to Jaime or the fact that Acey was being pulled back down into her seat by two of her friends. She shoved her arms out in front of her in an attempt to make space for herself in order to focus. "Whoa-whoa-hey! One thing at a time!"

What a dinner this was turning out to be, being surrounded by adolescent-shaped bundles of hormones and energy. Plus a crazy ghost or three. She wouldn't have been the least bit surprised to find her plate cold, by this point, what with having been forced onto her toes by everything going on.

Clearing her throat, she hooked a finger into the collar of her shirt. "Number one, where's Acey going in such a hurry? You don't like being toasted for or something? It's not like you don't deserve it. And number two: Jaime, is slapping people your answer to everything?"

Gritting his teeth, Jaime crossed his arms and hastily looked away. He mumbled something that sounded like, "When he's putting his hands all over you, it is."

"What?"

Acey nibbled on her thumbnail, and maneuvered herself to sit in Near's lap. A self-conscious blush coated her cheeks. "W-well, I know I deserve it. It's just that I get…shy when it comes to things like this," she murmured.

Near twisted a lock of Acey's hair around his finger. He had an ample list of the instances she looked beautiful to him. The first was how peaceful she looked after she'd fallen asleep after a long night of intimacy between his sheets, the second was when she smiled, and the third, when she blushed.

Jaime bowed in front of Erin. "May I have the honor of escorting you to the front of the dining hall, m'lady?" he asked, offering her his hand.

She blinked back at him. "Huh? Who, me? You want _me_ to toast?"

…

Her hands had the habit of wandering almost everywhere when she felt nervous: to her shirt collar, or her lap, or the brim of her hat when she wore it, or in this case, to the back of her neck. "Well…okay, I guess. But someone else should go up, too. These kids don't know me from Adam, after all. Acey, you up for it?" Her gaze shifted back and forth across their little group. "How 'bout any of you, guys?"

Acey slid off of Near's lap, and took a deep breath to quell her own case of jitters, which made her itch for a cigarette. She was definitely going to light one on her way down to feed the horses. "Yeah, Near and I will go up with you."

Mello let out a shrill whistle to get everyone's attention as the four made their way up to the front of the dining hall. Once Near was sure that every single eye was on them, he spoke: "If I could have your attention, everyone. We have a guest of honor this week, who is going to formerly introduce herself, as well as toast Acey of Spades's accomplishments in the last two months."

_Guest of honor? They called me the guest of honor…_

Erin was reigned back into reality by the weight of a hundred prying eyes. Guest of honor, indeed.

"Oh. Y-you're talking to me? Wait, is that my cue? Oh, dang it—ah, g'evening, everybody!" she called across the room as she waved an arm over her head. In spite of the cold weather, she could feel tiny pellets of sweat rolling down her throbbing temples. "How are you all? Life been treating you good? Great! Uh, n-name's Blogger, Erin Blogger…just Erin is good. Or Doofus, as they like to call me back in the Big Apple."

She was horrible at all things formal. When it came to public speaking, anything went.

Erin cleared her throat until it'd turned inside-out. "Uhm, anyway, it's, uh, great to be here and everything, dining with some of the brightest minds in the continent…the whole world, even! Yep. But tonight, if I may, I'd like to, um…dedicate a toast, to one of those great minds: my good friend, the one who finally closed the notorious Dragonfly case that had left the police stumped for—"

_Oh crap, why don't I remember the figures? _

Erin could just see the needle to the Approval Meter sinking like a rock with every word she said. For every inch it sank, her heart thumped louder in her ears.

"…for years, and the reason I'm here in the first place. Give it up for my girl, Acey of Spades!" she declared with the goofiest of grins as she raised her glass in one clammy hand and looped the other arm around Acey's neck. For no particular reason at all, Erin began whooping like a macho Super Bowl™ fan. And she didn't even like football.

Acey blushed deeper than she had a few minutes ago as everyone, to her complete and utter surprise, raised their glasses in toast to her. More than a few students started snickering at Erin, which made Jaime step forward. He couldn't stand them laughing at her like she was fool (even if she _was_ kind of acting like one).

Lifting her arm from around Acey would look natural enough. Once he'd done that, he did the only thing he could think to in order to silence her. Cupping her jaw, he quickly leaned forward, and pressed his lips against hers. It ended as quickly as it happened.

Erin stumbled in reverse until her back collided against the wall, as breathless as someone would feel after having had a cup of ice water splashed on their face from out of the blue.

"Forgive me, m'lady. I'm sorry," Jaime apologized, bowing quickly before he disappeared from the dining hall.

Acey used the stunned reactions of Near and Mello to her advantage. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she strode hastily across the dining hall towards the door. She didn't expect the applause from a handful of students as she passed.

Out of courtesy, of course.

…

"God-forsaken rain," Acey grumbled as she flicked her cigarette into a puddle by the barn door. Leaning up against the wall, she closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of fresh hay and horses, soaking in the soft comforting lull of their chewing.

"I thought you liked the rain."

Her eyes snapped open.

"Oh yeah, you used to, that is, until that day. You know the one, I'm sure."

Beyond Birthday smirked as Acey whirled around to face him. "It's good to see you again, Acey of Spades. Though I must say, you look even more pathetic than your new companion."

"You wanted to talk, Beyond?" she asked curtly. The rigid set of her jaw showed how much she disliked his mentioning that particular day in question. The way she narrowed her eyes when he'd referred to Erin said more than enough. _Keep away from her, plain and simple._

Beyond's smirk never faltered. "You know what I came to talk about." Licking his lips, his eyes darted from her face to her neck.

Acey stubbornly crossed her arms. "The answer is no."

No matter.

Beyond Birthday didn't need permission to take what he wanted; he simply took it. In barely the blink of an eye, Beyond wrapped her long hair around his hand, yanked her head to the side, and ruthlessly sank his teeth into the pale flesh of her neck. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he kept Acey pressed in place against his body, or lack thereof.

The whimper that escaped her throat was one tinged with a pain that was soon replaced with a sense of sick euphoria induced by endorphins, the more he greedily lapped and sucked the blood from the wound, making her eyes flutter shut. Her arms made their way to cling helplessly around his neck. Beyond smirked in her neck, hearing a breathy sigh reach his ears when she slumped against him.

Beyond tore his mouth away from her neck when he felt her go limp in his arms. Deciding to be a gentleman, he gently laid her on the cool cement of the aisle. Her breathing had become irregular, but he hadn't done anything life-threatening to her. Due to his taking in her blood, and siphoning off some of her energy as a medium, Acey's body had gone to a sleep of sorts. For a weaker medium, it usually took a day and half to two days to recover from this. However, she would begin to stir again within the hour.

Wiping his mouth, Beyond let himself into the tack room, and found a horse blanket to cover her with before he left. "I'll cut his head off for you, Acey of Spades. I can't have anyone else other than me laying a killing hand on you, now can I?" he murmured as he drew the blanket up over her shoulders.

He studied her prone figure lying in the aisle for a few moments before he disappeared without a trace. Seeing as how nearly two hours had passed, Beyond knew Mello would come down to check on her. He'd been doing that ever since he'd first caught B trying to kill her.

Ingesting Acey's blood would allow Victor Chappick to see him as Beyond silenced him for good. If he hadn't been able to see him, the act of killing him would be absolutely boring.

And it would make him seem more "real" when he finally came face-to-face with Erin Blogger.

…

Mello was glad he'd walked a few paces ahead of Erin. He intercepted her right outside the barn door, clamping a hand over her mouth when she saw Acey. "Don't scream," he instructed, "she's all right."

That didn't stop her from raving into his chocolate-scented hand as he shot up to pry it off, like peeling off duct tape. "Wh-what the hell d'ya mean, she's 'all right?' Look at her! _Pft! _M-move over!"

The volume of her shout managed to get almost every horse in a stir. Still, she didn't hesitate to tear onward towards the girl's blanketed body and hoist her up into her arms. A pleading hand rattled Acey's shoulder in searching for a sign of life as another pressed two fingers over her neck, searching for a pulse.

That was when she saw it. The bleeding, inflamed bite-mark.

Forget a cup. This time, it felt as though a _bathtub _of ice water had been thrown on her.

When Acey felt Erin's fingers searching for her pulse, she leaned her neck against them, enjoying how warm they felt against her spirit-chilled skin.

"That bastard…the least he could've done was sit with me until I came to." Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

It only served as a minor relief to Erin that she had responded. "Who, Acey? What bastard?"

A gasp erupted from her tightening throat as she guessed on her own. "W-was it B? Did _B _do this?"

Acey's eyes looked a little glassy when she opened them to gaze up at Erin. She reached up with a quivering hand to stroke her cheek. "Worry doesn't suit your face."

With tears burning the back of her eyes, she answered, "I wouldn't be wearing it in the first place if—oh, forget it, don't even dignify that with an answer. Just take it easy." Pushing everything else that'd been bothering her before for the time being, she called, "Mello! Let's get 'er outta here! Let's get her to A; I was told that he can help her when she's like this."

Though not aloud, Mello commended Erin for her quick thinking. Pulling back the blanket, he took off his leather jacket, and put it around Acey before he picked her up, cradling her against his chest. "Jesus Christ," he muttered when he saw the wound on her neck. "What happened down here, Ace?"

Once Erin fell into step next to Mello, Acey reached out to take Erin's hand, gently stroking her knuckle with her thumb to calm the older girl down. "Beyond bit me and drank some of my blood. It's a method that spirits use to make them visible to people who don't have the power to see them. He did that so Victor Chappick would be able to see him as he killed him."

"He _what? _He _drank _your _blood?_ Like some lousy _vampire?_" Erin simply couldn't help the flinch that jerked down her spine, all the way to her coccyx. "Oh, dang it, kid, isn't this exactly what we were all squabbling about at dinner? Fish don't swim alone, birds don't fly alone, and kids don't face off psycho ghosts alone. You're lucky that that little nip on the neck was all he did. Granted, I wish he hadn't gotten to do anything at all, but still!

"Wh-where the hell was old Jaime, in all this?" she spat as the three were back in the light and warmth of the indoors.

That Jaime. Ever since the incident in the dining hall, he had disappeared to who-knows-where. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, yet at the same time, wasn't sure if she could even _look _at him. But look at the mess that Acey had gotten into, this time.

"M'lady? M'lady! M'lady, are you alright?"

As if on cue, he came sprinting down the corridor towards them with A hot on his heels. Make no mistake, he was tearing himself apart for putting his own feelings before protecting Lady Acey.

He all but skidded to a stop when he saw Erin with them. If he was alive, Jaime was sure that his stomach would be fluttering with butterflies.

He wasn't exactly kicking himself for kissing her, though. He'd been thinking about kissing her for a while now. Only he wished it could've been one of those fireworks, blow-your-mind, leave-you-in-a-daze kisses.

Regrettably, he was no longer human, hadn't been human for centuries. But when he saw the bite-mark on Lady Acey's neck, he pretty much gathered what had happened. A few drops of her blood on Erin's tongue, and he would've been able to give her that type of kiss…if she'd wanted it.

"Here, give the Miss to me," A instructed, stepping forward so Mello could transfer Acey into his arms.

"Take care of her, please, A-man," Erin pleaded. "She might need a rabies shot, too."

She had only resolve to steal a fleeting glance at Jaime before gluing her eyes to the wall parallel to him as she folded her arms defensively over her chest. It took whatever had remained of her strength that she hadn't already spent to keep from freaking out over this new incident, just to keep from barking at him about everything. But that wasn't very much.

What on_ earth_ had he kissed her for, anyhow? What'd happened to the old Jaime that'd slapped her just minutes after making Acey's acquaintance? Was chivalry dead, after all? Technically, yes, in his case. But…ugh! Never mind! As long as he didn't open his mouth, as long as she didn't open _her_ mouth, no more people—or ghosts—would get hurt for the night.

As Erin slunk past him in pursuit of the others, she kept her eyes trained on the wall. She couldn't remember feeling this uncomfortable since the time L had snuck into bed with her when she'd had the flu.

"Rest assured, I will," A replied, smiling warmly at her. To him, it was almost tangible how much Erin cared for Acey. Sitting on Acey's bed once they were all in her room, he held her close against him, something of a nostalgic smile settling on his lips. It was a real treat for a ghost to hold a medium because they were able to feel the human body heat radiating off their bodies against their skin, as if they still technically had skin.

A patted a spot on the bed. "Come and sit with us. There is a theory that it helps the process along if someone who cares greatly for her is close to her. There may be some instances where the Miss's breathing may stop every now and then momentarily, but don't alarmed; it's perfectly normal."

Gulping, Erin nodded and accepted the spot A had offered her, now keeping her eyes trained on the girl in the ghost's arms as Jaime took A's other flank. "Just as long as it's for a couple seconds or something; can't live without oxygen, y'know," she mumbled.

That was when something occurred to her as A got to work. She wasn't sure if any talking was allowed while he did his thing, but he hadn't said so, so…

"A? You used to be a good friend of B's, right? He's the one that bit her, you know. Can't you, I don't know, talk some sense into him? Tell him to lay off? I mean, you're both spirits and everything, so…can't you?"

The smile A shoot Erin was hard to read on several different levels. He heard a threatening hiss when he reached out to stroke Acey's jaw, making his hand hover over it. Without even looking, A knew Wicked was staring a hole through him, radiating distrust for him from even the tip of his tail.

"Before I make light of your question, would be so kind as to reassure Wicked that I'm not going to hurt the Miss, or you for that matter?"

"Huh? Um, sure."

A was glad that Erin had turned away from Acey to address Wicked, for at the moment, she ceased breathing. He waited to see if she would start breathing again before Erin even noticed. Sometimes the time varied, it could be anywhere from a few seconds to a minute or two before she started breathing again.

With said cat in her arms, Erin nestled him into her lap and lightly scratched the top of his head with her fingertips before moving to the backs of his ears: the same thing she'd do with Lawliet when he was actually around to let her. "_Sssh,_ it's okay, Wick. He's _helping _her, not hurting her. She'll be okay in a jiff…hopefully. How is she, A? Is she coming around?"

Wicked purred loudly, leaning his head into Erin's fingers. The tone of her voice soothed his worries, but didn't completely dispel them. The way he narrowed his eyes at A warned, _Lay one finger out of line with her, or Erin, and my nails will be firmly embedded in your face._ He flicked his tail for good measure.

Relief flooded A's eyes when Acey started breathing again. "Yeah, she's coming around. The color is starting to return to her cheeks, and her breathing back to normal." Now it was time for him to work. Brushing Acey's hair to one side of her neck, he leaned down at an angle so Erin could watch if she wanted, and gently pressed his mouth to the wound. After a few moments, it began to disappear from her skin.

Said girl cringed. "What's that? Are you sucking the venom out of her system? Like you would with a s-snakebite?"

"It won't disappear all at once, mind you. I'll have to sit here and continue to do that for quite time," A explained, looking at Erin as he straightened his posture. "Now to answer your question, B is very…driven. I have talked to him, and was able to convince him to lay off of the Miss, on one condition. Once that condition has been fulfilled, however—"

A paused when he felt Acey wrap her fingers weakly around his arm in a silent plea not to say any more.

"Wh-what? What condition?" asked Erin, already afraid of where this was heading. As if things could get worse than they had already. She gazed at A for an answer, then at Acey, then at Mello who'd been leaning against the doorway for this whole time, then at Jaime before quickly pulling her eyes away upon remembering that she was ignoring him, and finally back at A.

She had to lift her hands off of Wicked, in order to keep from tugging at him in her anxiety.

Like he were a ghost himself, Near slipped into the room, nonchalant to the venomous glare he'd earned from Mello for his entrance alone. He refused to dignify him with any form of acknowledgement.

Erin, on the other hand, did. Torn between attempting to explain the situation and asking him what he'd come up for, she decided to let the young detective speak first.

"Near?"

He was quiet for a few moments, twisting a lock of hair around his finger before he spoke the following as if this sort of thing happened every day (and in the world of Wammy's kids, perhaps it did):

"There seems to be a new development in the case. Chappick was just found some twenty minutes ago. Dead, by decapitation."

Just like that, all the stuffy warmth in the atmosphere froze over.

He narrowed his eyes at A when he saw Acey lying across his lap. "A, please hand my fiancée over to me, and explain to me why she is in the state she is in now."


	9. 03: 1

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, ****Ken'ichi Kanemaki's **_**Hell Girl. **_

_**03-1**_

L had previously placed a mole to monitor the mafia, and notify him if any of them attempted to seek out Acey, which was how he'd kept her safe. The mole, a previous teacher of Acey's, had found Chappick dead once he was able to locate him.

God bless the moles.

Nevertheless, no one got much sleep, that night. Not Erin, at least. Came the crack of dawn, she sat slouched on the edge of her bed, staring out the window as trickles of purple and pink poured from the horizon to wash out the dark, cloudy canvas that was the sky. She'd been that way for quite some time, paralyzed with nausea as she tried to wrap her mind around everything that had happened up until this point. Her hands had unconsciously crept up to cradle her head like the priceless treasure it suddenly became to her upon hearing Chappick's fate, the night before.

Decapitation…no one deserved a death so grisly. Back when Kira still ran amok, he was usually merciful enough to off even the worst of criminals with heart attacks. Killing was killing, yes, but to _chop off someone's head? _

Erin got dangerously close to puking as she tried to shove the image out of her consciousness. This B's bloodlust had no limits, did it?

_And to think that one of us could be next…and why? Because he hates L? _

With her hands still holding her head, she drew her knees up to her chest to rest her chin on them, whereupon she began to wonder if this had been why L had preferred this position so much. To create a sense of sanctuary for himself against this wacko world of theirs, as a turtle retreated into its shell and watched the world from inside. After all, he must've dealt with things like this on a daily basis when he was still alive.

Acey was sleeping it off on her bed, leaving the only other entity in the room for the moment to venture over to Erin's side.

Timidly, Jaime sat down on the corner of Erin's bed. The atmosphere between them had been awkward and strained since he'd kissed her. They'd hardly spoken a word to each other, only sharing fleeting glances with one another.

"M'lady, do you mind if we talked?" he asked quietly, keeping his gaze focused in his lap.

Erin released a small grunt of confusion as his words shook her from her trance. It took a moment or two for her brain to process his question—first the exact words he'd used, then the definitions for each of them—but when she did…

She chose the most open and least hostile response while keeping her eyes glued to the daybreak beyond the window. "About what?"

Even though he couldn't look her in the eyes, Jaime wished she would make him.

The sheets rustled as he stood up. Even though she wasn't looking at him, he bowed anyway. "M'lady, please forgive me for my actions last night at dinner," he began, keeping his posture bent forward. "I had no right to do that. You can slap me for my insolence, if you wish. Or yell at me. But, if you chose to yell at me, may I ask that we go out into the hallway, so as not to wake Lady Acey?"

_Say or do whatever you wish. Just please, please forgive me._

He had handed her a tempting offer, Erin had to admit. However, she was not one for physical confrontation if she could help it—with a ghost, of all things—and she was a recovering screaming addict. This _would _be dealt with diplomatically. Not to mention, the tone in his voice was killing her to listen to it.

Before long, she had stood up as well, taking a minute or two to stretch out her limbs before sidling past him to get to the door. Creaking it open, she twisted the cricks out of her neck and wagged his finger at the phantom in question, beckoning him to follow her out into the hallway (but not too far, considering what'd happened to poor Acey the last few times she'd been left alone). Even then, establishing eye contact remained difficult.

Jaime obeyed her without a word. Once the two were just outside the room, Erin shut the door as gently as she could before propping herself up by the doorframe, arms folded across her chest.

"You first."

Jaime stood across the hall, facing her at the most comfortable distance they could attain from each other. "I beg your pardon?"

Erin held out a hand. With eye contact now necessary, her cheeks prickled with heat. "You go first. Preferably by explaining why you did it, in the first place."

Jaime figured he would just be straightforward about it, always having been that kind of guy by nature. He just didn't see the point of not saying what you wanted to say when you had to. It seemed counterproductive.

"Well, first of all, you were making that awful noise, which was most unladylike." Even though his voice held disdain, he was in fact teasing her a little.

"And I-I just couldn't stand by and watch while people started to laugh at you like you were some kind of fool. So I did the first I thought of to stun you into shutting up, which was to…"

He cleared his throat before finishing his sentence: "…kiss you."

Erin almost choked on her own spit when she heard that. "Ex_cuse _me? Now, okay, I can kinda see the part where I was making an idiot out of myself in front of the kids. But I do that all the time, and sometimes maybe it _does _take somebody else for me to cut it out, so that's not the problem. The problem is how in this triple-W you thought that _kissing _me was going to solve anything. Kissing, of all things!"

She quickly realized that the volume of her voice was picking up at an undesirable rate, so she quickly dropped it back to something of a whisper. "I mean, what happened to the old Jaime who slapped me when I first met him? Where'd _he_ go?"

"Oh, believe me, I'm still as rough around the edges as when you first met me," Jaime replied. Smirking, he moved so fast that Erin's human eye couldn't see when he had. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Jaime was in front of her.

"_Gah!" _

"You are so blind, Lady Erin," he stated, flicking her on the tip of her nose. "It's for the best, I suppose. I can't say with complete sincerity that I regret it, though. It's been centuries since I've kissed a girl, but believe it or not, I courted quite a few women in life, even a few of ladies in waiting for the Queen."

On Erin's side of the whole thing, his touch was like a small splash of water on her nose. She drew back in surprise as she wrinkled it. "Geez. I didn't realize you were such a rake, back in the day. And even now, apparently."

Then it dawned on her. When it did, she had to wrestle with the urge to turn around and bang her head against the doorway.

"Oh, no."

She closed her eyes and pinched the spot between them, hoping to quell the headache before it could start, without much avail.

"Jaime, are you saying that you…_like _me? Like me in the lovey-dovey, courtly, 'sittin'-in-a-tree' kind of way…?"

Naturally, discovering that a weird ghost from the Middle Ages had a crush on you was not something in and of itself that one could just shrug off. But it was more than simply that. Something about this whole scene was bringing L back to the forefront of her mind, for some reason. When and how his infatuation began would forever remain a mystery to her, but when she'd been living with him, Misa had tried numerous times to bring it to light. It'd taken until long after L had died, however, for Erin herself to start seeing it.

Of course, there was little chance, if any, that this could become a repeat of the past. This admirer was already dead, for one. For another, it'd taken her roughly a day to piece it together instead of months (something she might've been vaguely proud of if she wasn't already so bent out of shape). But still…

It took everything she had not to seem like a jerk about this, but she doubted her success with every second that passed. Erin tried to re-establish eye contact, but her eyes were sealed shut by some kind of glue that burned her eyes from the inside-out.

All she could say at the moment was, "Why? Dude, we just met. And stuff."

"Well, so what if I like you?" Jaime replied curtly. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he retreated to his side of the hallway and leaned up against the wall. "Don't let it bother you. In fact, just forget all about it."

It was not as if he could have any kind of relationship with her, anyhow. He was dead, and she still had a beating heart. There was no way he could offer her the warmth of a living man.

To him, it sounded like she was offended, and even a little disgusted by the whole idea, which sort of hurt. But why shouldn't she be disgusted? A ghost liked her.

A monster.

A monster of the underworld.

The only way they could have anything was if she drank Lady Acey's blood. If she did, then he would seem like a human, but the effects would only last so long before she'd have to do it again. He highly doubted that she would even consider doing that.

Jaime tilted his head up towards the ceiling, narrowing his eyes into a defensive glare. "Don't worry, that kiss was only a one-time thing. You don't have to worry about a monster like me touching you in that way again. So, like I said before, just forget about it. I'm just fine with admiring you from a safe distance, so you don't have bother with sparing my feelings, Lady Erin."

Whether she'd accept Near's offer or not, he may leave her a flower on her dresser, compliment her every now and then, but that would pretty much be the extent of it. He didn't expect anything from her in return. Better to let her know that he knew she wasn't even considering the idea, and that he was fine with it. Of course, it went without saying that he would treat her like the princess that she deserved to be treated as.

The word "monster" somehow pried her eyes back open. A wave of mild nausea was gradually sapping the strength from her knees, but it was not necessarily one of disgust for the phantom before her.

"Did Acey teach you how to make people feel guilty? 'Cause if she did, she taught you well," she groaned. "I never said that you were a monster; where in the hell would you come up with something like that? I think you're nuts, yeah, but I don't think you're a monster. Believe me, I've met a few monsters before…"

_Who were some of the best and worst friends anyone could have. _

"…and you're not like them. And even then, they weren't _totally_—well…okay, here's a quick quiz: in life or after it, have you ever intentionally killed someone or otherwise hurt them in some really awful way? Have you ever used someone or forced your will on them when they didn't want it? And if you ever did hurt someone, did you always feel guilty about it later, and try to make up? The answer is obviously no to the first two, and yes to the third, or else we wouldn't even be out here having this conversation. Now if it were the other way around, _then_ we'd have a problem. Of course, if I'm wrong, you can correct me at any time, but I doubt that you will, 'cause there's no need to."

Erin stopped to take a deep breath. She was getting preachy again, but didn't have the time to care. That was just how she rolled. "And what about Acey? Huh? You don't have to watch her—at least, that's my understanding of it—but you do. At least, you do the best you can. I don't think real monsters can be so altruistic like that. Bottom line: just because I don't…you know, feel the same way…"

She reached up to scratch the back of her neck. Oh, how itchy she could get in situations like these.

"…that doesn't mean I hate you. I mean, we can still be friends. Coffee-buddies and the like. Wait, do ghosts even _drink _coffee—oh, never mind, I'm sure you know what I'm driving at."

She peered up at him with her most hopeful and forgiving face. "Don't you?"

Taking his hands from his packet, Jaime put his hands up, palms out. "I understand, and I'm fine with it. But that doesn't mean I won't compliment you, and leave you a flower every now and then, and I'll take you up anytime on going out for 'coffee.'" He air-quoted "coffee" since he couldn't drink it.

"And about Lady Acey, what you say is true: I know I don't have to watch her, but I do want to. And as long as you are alive, I'll continue to watch over you, too." He wouldn't tell her that his punishment for interfering during the night Acey was supposed to die was to never be able to pass on if he'd wanted to at some point.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't fantasize about her. He just wouldn't let her know that, of course.

This earned a grin from Erin. "Well, all right, then! I think I can handle that much. That's a cultural thing from your time, after all, isn't it? Now that we've gotten this all straightened out, let's pinkie-swear on it. Mind you, by pinkie-swearing, we are making the ultimate covenant, and breaking it is punishable by law," she said, offering him her pinkie to seal the deal. Honestly, she was no good at giving someone the cold shoulder for very long.

Jaime extended his pinkie in return, wrapping it around Erin's. Being a guy, he couldn't quite help his reply: "If I somehow commit the taboo of breaking this pinkie-swear, then you are free to punish me in any way you feel inclined to." His grin was more of a playful smirk.

Uh…what?

"I'm going to assume that you meant that in a joking way," said Erin when their pinkies released each other.

No, he wasn't joking. He could think of more than a few scenarios to go with what he said, and they would be considered most inappropriate to speak of aloud, particularly the one featuring Erin wearing a bit of leather.

In reality, the girl in question clapped her hands together, her features considerably softer than they'd been earlier. At least, for the time being. "So, now that we're all squared, can you do something for me? Acey's still a little out of it, so I'm gonna go downstairs and whip up some breakfast for her. Kid needs to build her strength back up. Stay with her until I come back, okay? Don't take your eyes off her for even a second. I don't want…uhm, you know, a repeat of last night."

Jaime nodded, and bowed. "Of course. As you wish, m'lady." He didn't need standing orders to watch over Lady Acey. It would be his job for the rest of her life.

…

"Now let's see…she's gonna need fat and protein, so let's see if they got any eggs and bacon," Erin muttered to no one as she pawed through the shelves of the refrigerator from top to bottom. She tucked some of the items she thought were needed under her arms, while balancing the loaf of bread in her fingers as she held the door open.

What she pulled out next was not the package of bacon she'd been looking for, but a bar of chocolate. Someone had scribbled on the gold foil wrapper the following word that Erin read out loud like a question:

"_Mello." _

"I'd put that back, if I were you," a boy's voice cautioned from behind her. Startled, Erin dropped the loaf of bread as she turned her head to find Matt sitting on the counter across the room, his jean-clad legs dangling off the edge as he manipulated an unlit cigarette from one side of his mouth to another.

"Oh. It's just you. G'mornin', Matt. I-I thought you might've been—never mind. What, now?"

"I said, I'd put that chocolate bar back where you found it, if I were you," said Matt with a lazy morning smile. "That's Mello's. You _really _don't want to let him catch you messing with his chocolate. Especially not in the mood he's in, right now."

Erin hastily shoved the treat deep into the fridge and drew away as though she'd touched something moldy. "Uh, why? What's wrong with him?"

Matt placed his hands on the back of his head as he leaned against the cabinet. "Oh, he's been PMS-ing since last night, when we found out what'd happened to Chappick. I tried to point out to him that Near hadn't gotten the chance to catch him either, but he didn't want to hear it."

Eyebrows quirked, Erin proceeded to shut the fridge, pick up the loaf and place everything by the stove. "Why would he get bent out of shape about that? Granted, I think the way he'd died was…horrible, but doesn't this mean that he can't come after Acey, anymore?"

Matt rubbed the back of his head, shrugged, and fished out a lighter to ignite his cigarette. "Of course he's glad that Acey will be safe now, but it's a matter of pride for Mello. It's been like this for years. To be blunt, it wasn't totally a matter of her safety, but a game. Whoever reached Chappick first would be the best, and to Mello, Chappick's death meant that he'd lost, even though Near had, too."

Well, that wasn't the best mind-set in the world, treating things like that as a game. Then again, it wasn't like she hadn't seen that kind of thinking before.

His smile became more sheepish as he blew a cloud of smoke above Erin's head. "You should've seen how pissed he was when Acey and Near got engaged. He didn't have romantic feelings for her, still doesn't. But not only was Near still number one, but he got the girl, too. Pretty petty, huh? So, what'cha doing down here so early in the morning, beautiful?"

Erin was unsure what had her clearing her throat: the smoke from Matt's cancer-stick, or the nickname he'd given her. She turned away to pull out a slice of bread to slide into the toaster. "N-not much. I'm just making breakfast for Acey. After last night, she deserves it," she said as she searched the rack for the largest frying pan she could find for the eggs and bacon. Since she was no Iron Chef™, it was easier to have everything cooked in one pan. It cut down on dirty dishes, plus she could keep track of everything better.

After lubricating said pan with cooking oil, she turned on the heat underneath it and proceeded to place two strips of bacon on one side, and crack two eggs on the other. She was also not the best egg-cracker in the world, unfortunately, with her broken left hand and doubtful right one. The first egg exploded into a splatter of yolk and white around the edge of the pan, rather than in it.

"Oh, crap!" lamented Erin, who quickly covered her mouth upon realizing that she had company. The smell of cigarette smoke and sizzling fat were beginning to make her eyes water. Her mouth could still get foul, now and then, as it often did long ago. Only difference between then and now was that she'd become more conscious of who'd be listening.

Matt took one last drag off his cigarette before stubbing it out on the heel of his boot. "Here," he said, retrieving another egg from the fridge. Standing behind Erin, he guided her right hand around the egg, and cracked it finely against the counter. "It helps to do that first, then gently pull the egg open over the pan, like this." He used her fingers to pull the egg apart over the pan, the gooey prize inside plopping into a neat sizzling splatter on impact.

"How is Acey, anyways? I haven't been up to see her yet," said Matt, deciding to crack to the other egg for her, leaving Erin to tend to bacon. Before she picked up the spatula, he picked up her left hand. "That's the one that hurts, right?" he asked, pressing a gentle kiss on it.

At that point, she could've very well used the heat from her cheeks to fry the entire dish to a crisp. "Oh, w-well, I—it doesn't _really _hurt. Only when it gets chilly out and stuff. Other times, it's just kinda, you know…stiff-ish. It's still good, just not as good as it used to be, is all."

Deciding to answer the boy's first question rather than delve into the story of how her hand had gotten that way, she added, "Acey's sleeping it off, right now. That B took a lot out of her, for a lousy nip on the neck."

…

For a moment, only the sizzle of meat and oil staved off total silence from the kitchen before Erin could find her voice again: "B's been haunting this place for a while, hasn't he? This hasn't been the first time he's attacked any of you, I'm guessing?"

Matt boosted himself back up onto the counter, and shrugged. "Actually, he hasn't ever gone after any of us, except Acey, really. If you ever get to see them interact, if you know how to look hard enough between the lines…I personally get the sense they have some kind of messed-up connection. I think I heard her mumbling something once about their having the same kind of 'eyes.' Like they see the same things, I guess."

He narrowed his goggled eyes thoughtfully. "I didn't get to really know him, but I always found something otherworldly about him, like he could see some things that an ordinary person can't see. B and Acey had the same kind of cold chill around them. The cold chill of death, almost."

Just mentioning the words "chill" and "death" had Erin's left hand twitching in apprehension. What on earth could Matt have meant by _that? _

Hmm…hadn't that ghost Kikuri said something to her about B's eyes? She hadn't quite caught every word—understandably enough, given the circumstances she'd been placed in at the time—but Erin could recall that much, if nothing else.

"What'cha mean by that?" she asked as she flipped the bacon strips over once one side had become a crispy brown. "Don't tell me that B was a medium, too…was he?"

Matt put his hands up, palms out. "No, I don't think so. But Acey wouldn't tell me. She's been stubborn about it for years. She did say something about 'protecting their own,' so I'm guessing he had some kind of supernatural power. It feels like she's swearing to some kind of oath."

Now the once enticing smell of breakfast made Erin's stomach churn and writhe. "An oath, huh? To whom, I wonder? I-it better not be to B; that would make the least amount of sense out of everything I've learned about since we met. I mean, he wants to kill her. Oh, eggs and bacon are done."

She reached over to switch off the heat for the burner. After sifting through the cabinet to fish out a plate, Erin proceeded to transfer the two eggs onto it with the intention of creating a smiley face; they would be the "eyes." She curled the two bacon strips into a "smile" on the opposite end of the dish, then cut a slice of melon to be the "nose."

Finally, she toasted and buttered a slice of bread, cut it in half, and placed a half on either side of the plate, for "ears." With the "face" arranged to her liking, Erin headed for the fridge to find the orange juice and something sweet to spread on the toast, like grape jelly.

For some reason, her stomach turned into a sack of gravel when she could find no grape jelly, but an otherwise ordinary jar of strawberry jam, instead. Perhaps because it reminded her of a story Acey had told her about B, the previous morning. The one involving that jam.

Matt peered at her, looking slightly concerned. "What's wrong? You're looking at it like it's got teeth and claws. It's not going to bite, you know." He outstretched his fingers and bent the ends of them like claws. He was the kind of person that would say or do anything to put a person at ease, and Erin certainly looked uneasy. Honestly, he was surprised that jam was still there. Every time the cook stocked up on strawberry jam, the jars always seemed to disappear little by little.

Swallowing hard, Erin gripped the butter knife tighter in her sweating hands. Every demon needed an exorcism. If no one else could or would do it, it might as well have fallen on her shoulders.

"Matt, does anyone in this house really like strawberry jam?"

"Well, jam is good, but I doubt anyone here would miss it all that much. Why?"

"Great. Sensational. Then it should be safe to say that no one'll mind if I did this." Snatching the jar out of the fridge, Erin stormed through the house and outside to where the trash cans were kept. Upon unscrewing the lid, she tipped the jar upside-down and guided the sticky red goo out onto the ground with her knife. Once the inside of the jar had been scraped clean, she kicked dirt over the mess before tossing the jar into a nearby recycling bin for glass wastes. All the while, she made herself dizzy with the lack of proper breathing.

When she realized that a piano or anvil had not fallen on her for her deed, she marched back inside to wash the fruity filth from her hands in her sink. In spite of her trembling brought about by the brief adrenaline rush, she couldn't remember feeling more empowered since she'd arrived at Wammy's House. Then again, adrenaline did tend to mess up one's sense of rationality.

_That oughta show him. _

Almost as if nothing had happened, she poured a glass of orange juice as soon as she could steady herself. "Matt, you're a peach. Never change that; the world needs more peaches," she said with a dazed smile. "Thanks for everything. Oh. And if it's not too much trouble, please tell whoever's in charge of groceries to never ever buy strawberry jam again. Ever."

Matt actually had moved to stop her, but decided to let her go, in the end. He grinned at her, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "No problem. You're all right in my book, too, Erin. You can't survive here without having some guts. Try standing up to Mello, next time."

By this time, Matt could hear the residents of Wammy's stirring, getting ready for the day. And since Mello tended to stir louder than most, he expected to hear him any minute now.

"I can help you carry that upstairs, if you want," he offered, hopping down from the counter top.

"Why, thanks, buddy! That'd be greatly appreciated! You get the juice, I'll get the plate and the funnies. No good breakfast is complete without the morning funnies," cheered Erin, who was still quite pink in the face about everything that'd happened that morning, so far. From frustration, fear, epinephrine-induced exhilaration, or a combination of the three? She didn't quite know, anymore.

"Say, Matt, what do they call the funnies here in the UK?"


	10. 03: 2

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, ****Ken'ichi Kanemaki's **_**Hell Girl. **_

**A quick note before we continue: Matt is **_**not **_**developing a crush on Erin. Since we see so little of him in the actual canon, his character is up for considerable interpretation (aside from the established traits of being Mello's laid-back best friend with an addiction to video games and cigarettes). We're assuming that he'd behave the way he did with Erin around any female in general. The good ones, anyway. **

**And B's just being…B. **

**Trust us, the only guy with an actual crush on Erin here is Jaime. **

_**03-2**_

Sometime before dawn, Beyond Birthday had crossed back into Wammy's threshold. Kikuri was mad at him for what he'd done to Acey of Spades, so he had returned without company. His eyes widened when he spotted Erin Blogger stroll outside of Wammy's like she was on a mission, alone, no less. And very unaware that she wasn't the only one outside.

He was quite surprised that Acey had let out of her sight. There were endless possibilities of how he could've taken advantage of this opportunity. She'd never see him coming if he chose to approach her now.

But when his eyes drifted up to Acey's bedroom window, and saw her watching him like a hawk, he had to forlornly part with the idea. For the time being, at least. He should've known that he couldn't come back here without her knowing about it.

He looked away from Acey, and back across the yard at Erin. What was she doing?

The wind filtered the scent of strawberry jam towards him.

_Wait…_

Was she _seriously_ throwing out his jam? Pouring it all over the ground and smothering it with dirt off the tip of her shoe?

Beyond could only gawk powerlessly at her for a moment before he smirked. He certainly admired the girl's nerve. She would've had to have something to have caught the eye of someone like L besides a slice of shortcake. If that was how she wanted to play, so be it. He would make his comeback by taking something of hers.

Oh, the endless possibilities.

…

"Acey, you're up!" breathed Erin the second she and Matt stepped across the threshold. "A-are you okay? You sure you shouldn't stay in bed? Come on back, I—no, wait, sorry, Matt and I—uh, _we _got breakfast." Everyone had to take credit where it was due.

She looked to Jaime as she placed the glass of orange juice on the bedside table that sat between her bed and Acey's, following it up with a rolled-up copy of today's paper. "There weren't any problems up here, were there?" she asked, feeling far more comfortable around said phantom after that heart-to-heart (even if he technically did not have one, anymore).

Acey gently let the curtain fall from her tiny hand, and smiled warmly at Erin. "Well, good morning to the both of you. Oh no, I'm fit as a fiddle, I assure you. It's going to take a lot more than this to take me down for good."

_I've dealt with much worse._

She would be lying if she said that smiling didn't feel awkward. Until L had found her, Acey couldn't remember ever smiling. It'd been a gradual learning process. She suddenly remembered L quietly pointing out the first time he'd seen her smile. She'd been looking out the window, as a horse-drawn carriage had been hobbling past.

Smiling had felt awkward then, as it still did now. But she liked to think she'd gotten a little better at it.

"Oh, you really didn't have to make breakfast for me. Thank you, though. It was a sweet thought," she said before the smile fell from her face while she debated on reprimanding Erin about her having gone out into the yard by herself. She'd been having trouble whether to say something to her or not, because she wanted her to feel comfortable here.

Fortunately, before Acey could apologize for falling silent, Kikuri came—literally—bursting through the door. "Onee, are you all right?"

"Yikes, where'd you come from?"

The little ghost-girl jumped up, and threw her arms around Acey's neck, nearly making her fall over back onto the bed.

"Yes, I'm fine, Kikuri," said Acey, patting Kikuri's head after she'd steadied the ghost-child in her lap. "Now, I do believe you owe someone an apology. Go on, apologize."

Turning to Erin, Kikuri puffed out her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she huffed stubbornly.

Erin, who was still a bit out of wind over this next surprise, rattled her head and grinned in reply. "Aw, hey, don't worry about it. My attention span's too short for grudges." She plopped down on her bed with a tired sigh, propping herself up with her hands over her knees. She in turn had been debating on whether to bring up certain matters to Acey, namely, her chat with Jaime and the fact that she'd just gotten rid of the last jar of strawberry jam. The former, she decided to leave alone, what with the pinky-swear they had made in order to seal the peace between them. Besides, Acey and Jaime were so close, anyhow; perhaps she already knew?

But the latter…

She could only manage a breathless, "Boy, what a morning. Matt here tells me that old Mello's on some kind of tear today. I forget, what's it about?"

"Oh, he—"

"He's just mad 'cause Nii-chan got to the bad guy first," Kikuri explained casually, hopping off of Acey's lap.

Acey frowned. It seemed that she'd have to give the child another crash course in manners. She must have been picking up bad habits from B, but she knew that she could've very well learned the habit of cutting people off from L.

Kikuri held out her arms, and spun in a circle. "Nii-chan is possessive, you see? He wants Onee all to himself. He'll pick off anyone that gets in his way." She giggled as if she knew something that neither of the girls knew.

Acey crossed her arms, glaring at Kikuri. "Kikuri, please! You're making it sound like he's in love with me, which he_ isn't_." She heavily annunciated "isn't." An embarrassed flush flooded her cheeks.

Kikuri brushed Acey's reprimand off as she climbed onto Erin's lap. "But he's infatuated with her eyes." She moved her finger close to Erin's (twitching) eye. "Isn't that what 'infatuated' means?"

Acey scrambled to grab Kikuri off of Erin's lap before she could get around to poking her in the eye. "Cover your ears from now on when you hear him talk like that. You don't need to know what that word means."

_Just _when_ did I decide to try and raise her? She'll never actually be an adult, yet I'm _still trying_ to teach her how to act like one._

Matt snickered. Jaime tried to remain as stoic as possible upon the mentioning of the I-word. Erin simply rubbed at her eye with her knuckles as she too sought to tame a blush coming on.

Wait. Hadn't Matt said something about B's eyes, just a while before? B's eyes…Acey's eyes…eyes that could see death…

"Uh, why would B be so fixated on your eyes, Acey?" she squeaked, glancing at Matt every other second as though she could still get two more cents off of him. "I mean, they're nice and all, but…"

B was unlikely to have been a medium in life, as Matt had informed her. But he could "see things that ordinary people couldn't." But aside from a medium's eyes, the only other pair of magical eyes that Erin was aware of were—

Her heart skipped two and a half beats.

_Did Beyond Birthday once have Shinigami Eyes? _

The eyes of a god of death. A human who owned a Death Note could cut their natural lifespan with the shinigami attached to the notebook in exchange for the power to see their victims' real names by looking at their face. But that was the extent of her knowledge on them, for she'd drawn what knowledge she did have of them from her ordeal on the Kira case, specifically from the devotion-driven endeavors of her old friend Misa, the Second Kira.

Suddenly, the room had all but reached its freezing point. Even if B had Shinigami Eyes, and therefore possibly a Death Note in his possession, why would that make him so obsessed with Acey's power to see spirits?

Unless the Shinigami Eyes allowed their wearer to see more than just names.

Eyes that could see death…

She reached a feeble hand as though aiming to speak in front of a class. "Hey, uh, guys? I hope you don't mind me asking—I've already got a fairly good idea of how wacky this is gonna sound, I'm probably really going out on a limb here—but…do any of you know if B had a Death Note at some point? Um, assuming that you guys know what that is?"

She really hated the way the room had fallen into a lethal silence. No one even seemed to breathe—the ones who could breathe, anyway.

Erin stopped to swallow down the lump growing in her throat. "B-because, based on what Matt told me in the kitchen, and what Kikuri's been prattling on about…i-it's kinda starting to sound like he had Shinigami Eyes. Or something."

Acey visibly stiffened, and sincerely hoped her smile reached her eyes. Even though she knew he wasn't in the room with her, it felt like he was standing over her shoulder, whispering, "Go on, tell her, if you think you can redeem yourself for the mistake you made."

…

"Now who's the one rambling, Erin? If B had a Death Note, don't you think I would've known about it, and been able to put a stop to Light Yagami before L could even lift a finger? The only way to obtain Shinigami Eyes is to trade half of your remaining lifespan for them while you're in possession of a notebook. Your assumption is completely out of left field and will take you nowhere if you choose to debate it with me. Beyond Birthday was, and still is, nothing but a psychopath obsessed with something he couldn't understand, even in death," she replied smoothly, inwardly cursing L for teaching her how to lie.

_Notice I never said you were wrong. Sorry Erin, but I can't afford for you to find out about B's eyes. I'll use every method I know to effectively shoot you down until…B wouldn't dare expose me, would he?_

The imaginary Beyond snickered in her ear, "Still the same coward as always, I see."

Acey had to bite her tongue to stop herself from telling him to shut up out loud.

Matt held up his hands before Erin could look to him for any kind of further confirmation. He didn't really know why Acey was trying to lie, but if she was, she must have had a good reason to. "Hey, that's her field, not mine."

Kikuri turned to Erin, and beamed at her. "You're going to die if you keep sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong, silly human."

Said girl shrunk into the bed like a spanked dog. "No offense, but that's a bit of a redundant observation to make, at this point, kid," she muttered, scratching meekly at the back of her head. "What with my knowing who you guys even are in the first place…sorry I said anything. I just wanted to know why this guy would be obsessed with your eyes and all. Since he wasn't a medium, and could apparently 'see things that most people can't'—well, the only other power I know of with that description besides yours are the Shinigami Eyes."

_Maybe Acey doesn't trust me all THAT much, after all? For some reason, it's starting to sound like she's covering something up. But why? _

As hurt as she was by these thoughts, she could not actually begrudge the younger girl for it. If she'd had her kind of upbringing, perhaps she wouldn't have felt inclined to completely trust in someone. Perhaps this applied to all of the Wammy's residents, to some extent. To L.

Erin pushed the plate across the table. "Here. You better eat. Your breakfast is getting cold."

"Oh you're right. Thanks, it would be rude to let it go cold after all the work and trouble you went to make it for me." Acey picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on one end. Truthfully, she wasn't hungry, but she would force herself to eat.

Somehow, she figured she'd probably be throwing it all up later.

_Erin, I really hope you don't think I don't trust you. Because I do, and I think the world of you. You are special to me because I think you were special to L somehow. I just don't want you to blame me if you found out. I would blame me._

_I _do_ blame me._

Acey looked up at Matt, Jaime, and Kikuri. "Can you guys leave Erin and me alone for a sec?" She stared down at her hands until they'd left. Once Matt closed the door softly behind him, she looked up at Erin, glad that Kikuri left without a fuss for once.

"I'm sorry about all that," she murmured. "I can't imagine how overwhelmed you must feel. Discovering the existence of another world so suddenly, and having to take it all in at once. I can't say I know how that feels, because I've been a part of the supernatural world all my life. I want to tell you something, though."

The look in her eyes became more serious. "If you choose to keep me as company, you are going to have to accept the fact that not all spirits are good, just like not all living people are good. Some of them are truly horrible. You only get good ones like Jaime and A once every century or so."

She moved the breakfast tray off to the side and eased over to Erin's side of the room, to adjust herself so that her head was resting in her friend's lap. Right now, she just wanted to be close to her. "You know, this may sound hard to believe, but…I get scared of things, too. And right now, I'm very afraid of something."

These Wammy's kids seemed to enjoy laps a lot. Not that this was a terribly big deal—it wasn't hurting anyone—but Erin could not help the heat returning to her ears and cheeks. She placed her hands over the surface of the bed and supported herself on her arms, if only to give the younger girl room.

"Ah, well, it's not that unbelievable, being scared of stuff. Everyone's afraid of something; 'spart of being human. I mean, ha-ha, look at me. I'm one of the biggest chickens you may ever meet." She had a vague idea of what Acey might've been afraid of—or at least, one of those things, that being loneliness, abandonment, no matter how she'd behave to prove otherwise.

But out of respect, she decided not to verbalize this, and allow Acey to speak her mind, if she so chose to. Peering down into her hazel eyes, she asked in her gentlest tone, "So…what'cha afraid of?"

Acey nibbled her lower lip in thought. "Oh well, spiders, heights, drowning…"

Then she closed her eyes. "And…blame, I suppose."

…

All completely understandable fears, in Erin's book. That is, until she'd begun wrapping her brain around that B-word. "Blame," not the other one associated with a jam fetish.

Was Acey still hung up about the results of the Kira case? Granted, a tragedy of that magnitude was not something one recovered from right away. She knew that too well from her own experience. But still…

"Acey, can I ask you a question? Did you become afraid of blame because of that case? What happened to L and everything? If so, do you honestly think that you had fault in the choices he made despite your best efforts, or did the other kids blame you for his death for so long that one day, you kinda just found yourself starting to believe it, too?"

After a considerable pause, Erin added in hopes of letting her know that she would not think any less of her for her answer, "Just so you know, I can fall into that pit-trap, too."

Acey turned on her side so that she wouldn't face Erin anymore. "Yes. Yes, I do blame myself. I didn't do what I should've done. It would've been different if I had, and maybe he'd have ignored me, but I didn't even try. I wasn't kidding when I told you I messed up, Erin."

She paused to swallow a lump in her throat. She refused to cry. She didn't want pity, nor did she think she deserved it. "I like to think my reason was perfectly plausible, but still. It's not like I was collaborating with Kira or anything. I just didn't open my mouth when I should've."

…

_What the hell is she talking about? Damn it, L, why'd you have to teach these kids that it's okay to confuse people? I don't get it: she told me that she_ did_ go out of her way to out herself to Light, and the only reason her plan failed was because Jaime had told on her to L. What could she have possibly failed to mention by not even trying to? _

…

_Why am I getting this tingly feeling that that 'thing' involves B, somehow? His power…the power that she won't tell me about…_

Unfortunately, while Erin had cultivated more patience since her adventure in Japan, it was still prone to quick wear. Acey was dodging, but for her sake and Erin's, she decided that perhaps she leave it be for a while. Maybe when Acey gained a bit more trust in her, she'd open up about it?

With a grunt, Erin hoisted the younger girl into an upright position in the spot beside her, earning a slight squeal in surprise. "Okay, it's starting to become apparent to me that you're a little light-headed, at the moment. From the lack of food. Now eat up, or am I gonna have to spoon-feed you?"

Now it was Acey's turn to blush. She sat up straight and clasped her hands neatly in her lap. "No, no, of course not," she replied firmly, reaching to grab a piece of toast. After swallowing a mouthful, she grinned at Erin.

"You know, like mentor like apprentice; I also had a sweet tooth. But only for ice cream. I hate milk." She wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue. "But I absolutely love ice cream. Oh my god, a warm brownie with two scoops of cookies n' cream with hot fudge dribbled on top with a cherry." She placed a hand over her heart as though swooning over an attractive movie star.

Acey smiled somewhat sheepishly after she swallowed. "Sadly, L was able to use that as a bribery tool until I caught on. While I was eating that sundae, I said yes to anything he wanted me to do in a millisecond. Ice cream was his white flag after we fought, too. He would offer me a spoonful of his ice cream as if that'd make up from his being a jackass."

She paused for a moment. "I…actually miss fighting with him."

It remained a blue-eyed wonder how quickly the subject could change around here. No use in fighting it.

"You know what? Now that you've brought it up…I can't help but echo that sentiment. It's not like I really ever had a shot, either, what with his being smarter and more even-tempered than me and all. But he sure wasn't boring. I mean, for an uber-dull guy, he was pretty, you know, interesting, in his own right. Aw shucks, that probably doesn't make a mite of sense, does it?"

"Neither does loving ice cream and hating milk at the same time," said Acey, prodding at the white of a fried egg with the prongs of her fork.

Those bittersweet feelings were returning as Erin squeezed and twisted the slight cricks forming in her neck, scorching her face like drops of boiling water seeping into every pore. "Between you and me, sometimes when_ I_ look back, I gotta wonder what exactly it was about me that he—uh…you know."

"Look at you! Your face looks like a tomato," teased Acey. Because her hands ran cooler than her friend's, she reached over and placed her hand on the side of Erin's neck.

"Isn't it obvious? I mean, you're smart, beautiful…"

_You're quick as a whip, too._

"…and incredibly brave. You have a power all of your own, Erin. You can see past a person's short-comings, or how they act, and stay loyal to them. Why, if I were a boy, I would've kept you all to myself, by now," she winked with jest. "But if you want a second opinion, why don't you ask Jaime?"

Oh boy.

The girl in question chewed on the inside of her lower lip at the mentioning of that name, along with everything else, of course. "Boy, good old Jaime. That's…uhm, kinda funny, how you mention him…we had a chat this morning, especially about the little stunt he pulled last night at dinner—you know the one? I wasn't too sure about telling you, but we might as well be on the same page, right? It's not like we didn't work it out. Anyway, we talked…"

…

As much as she hated loneliness, she needed some space, a little time to be alone with her thoughts, for she had quite a few, some of which she wasn't sure she could discuss completely with her friend, the medium. After watching Acey clean her plate, Erin had had Jaime stay and watch her while she went out to explore the rest of the manor, making sure to drop off the dirty dishes at the kitchen on the way.

The halls were relatively empty as she made the trek from one floor to the next, but on occasion, she would pass a classroom buzzing with mental activity; and gosh, did they buzz! It made Erin feel as though she were walking through a bee farm. Without a protective suit.

Her curiosity would force her to brake in front of shut doors and strain her ears to listen in on their arguments, their debates, their observations and discoveries. _Geez, I've got fourth graders on my left dissecting Nietzsche in his native tongue, and ninth graders on my right discovering the cure for cancer. And a whole bunch of more kids training to be the next L. _

_What am I? A rinky-dink writer who's even lucky to be working for a paper. With so much to say, but at the same time, nothing to say at all. _

Well, perhaps this was a bit of an exaggeration (save the part about the students of Wammy's training to become L), but her mind, puny as it was in comparison, needed some way to simplify everything she was hearing. As nice as all the things Acey had said about her were, she simply couldn't help but feel inadequate in just loitering in these hallways. The venerable hallways where great minds passed through every day, past, present, and future. Minds that could rock the very foundation of the world, for better or for worse. It made her dizzy, just thinking about it.

With all this contemplation on prodigies, it wasn't long until Near came back to the forefront of her brain, specifically, his offer. He'd given her until the day she'd have to return to New York to give her answer. She still had little reason to believe that he'd want anything to do with her apart from the fact that she knew who he was. Who L and Acey were. What their whole group was about.

She groped the wall alongside her in order to stay on her feet. _I gotta admit, it does sound pretty cool, working with L's group. But what would happen if I accepted? Would I really have to change my name, grow a mustache and ditch my family? _

Near had said that they could make compromises to accommodate her concerns. On the other hand…

_What if he'd just said that so I'd be more likely to say yes? L wasn't above saying stuff just to get people to roll with his crackpot schemes; who's to say that Near isn't the same way? Or Acey, for that matter, if to a smaller extent…_

_Acey. What could you be hiding that you're too afraid to talk about? Is it about B's powers? _

_Are you covering for him? If so, why? _

Though she had shot her theory down about Beyond Birthday once owning a Death Note and therefore Shinigami Eyes, it hadn't left her mind. It nibbled the corners of it like nibbling the crust off of a sandwich.

As most people who would become entranced in their thoughts, Erin had found it necessary to poke back into reality, like a diver breaking the surface of the depths to take a nice, healthy breather. When she did, she found herself standing just outside the oak door of an office. Mr. Roger's office, to be precise.

A new thought sparked to life. Should she consult Roger about Near's offer? He was, after all, his assistant, in the same way Watari/Quillish had been for L. If she was going to accept (or reject) such a life-altering opportunity, she might as well be as informed as possible in doing it.

But Erin's knuckles had barely brushed the smooth surface of the door when something else occurred to her. _What if Roger lies to me, too? Watari was game with pretty much anything L had had in mind; he'd support him in any way he could. What if Roger is the same, if only out of obligation? _

_Then again, he still doesn't seem too happy to even have me here—_

"Going to talk to Roger, I see."

A very embarrassing whoop of surprise tore from her throat as she stumbled around to find Mello behind her, his fingers teasing the foil of the chocolate bar clutched in his other hand as he prepared to tear it away to get at the treasure inside.

Roger hadn't been the only one seemingly unhappy with her arrival.

"Ah, M-Mello! Oh, geez! You almost scared the filling outta my doughnut!" breathed Erin, tugging on the collar of her blouse. Matt's warning came charging up through her thought-clutter up to the forefront of her mind. Perhaps a bit too late.

Perhaps her definition of "incredibly brave" differed from Acey's?

Once her words played back to her in her head, she cringed. "Eww…no wait. Forget that I said that last part. Wh-what's up? Shouldn't you, um, be in class, right now?"

"You know, if you keep walking around with that stupid look on your face, you're going to get lost," said Mello, rolling his eyes. "_Tch_, shouldn't Acey and Matt be in class, too? Because she's with Near, she can do whatever she wants because Near thinks _he_ can whatever he wants. That sheep-headed twit thinks he's king of this place. And since Matt runs with me, if I'm not in class, he isn't either."

Somehow, it would make sense that the kids be almost as spoiled as their predecessor.

"Well, she _was _attacked, last night," Erin answered, slowly and cautiously. "If I were her, I wouldn't really be up for class, either. And Near's up doing…erm, L-stuff, so…mm…"

"I know what happened to her. I was with you when we found her, remember?" He was willing to admit he was acting condescending towards her, but did this girl really forget things that easily?

He seethed, arching an eyebrow. "If you're looking to talk to Roger about something important, don't waste your breath."

Her ears burned so much, they could've shriveled into strips of ear-jerky and fallen off her head at any minute. "Why not? Roger is, like, Near's secretary, isn't he? I kinda might have to. See, Near handed me this offer yesterday—a chance to work with him as an informant and all—and I—"

"He did what?" roared Mello, his quick outburst sending Erin backwards until her back bumped the wall. "Seriously, who does he think he is? Unbelievable! He's barely even known you for a day, and he already thinks he can use you for his own personal gain!"

He said this almost as though he were personally above manipulating others.

He angrily snapped off a piece of his chocolate bar, squeezing it perhaps a little more than he should've. "You aren't considering doing it, are you? I mean, I can understand if you want to keep hanging around Ace, but you could do that even if you don't take the job."

Erin sucked in her throbbing cheeks. She briefly wondered if Mello reacted to the scent of sweat rolling down her temple. "That's just it: I don't know if I should. I like Acey, I think you're all swell, really, in your, um, own way—with the exception of you-know-who—but so far, the cons are really outweighing the pros. What would happen if I accepted? Would I have to leave my folks and give up my identity? I've done both before; I really didn't like it. He told me that he could make adjustments, but I'm not sure if I should believe him. For that matter, what if he's not really giving me a choice, at all? If I said no, would he accept it?"

"Hmph. _I _wouldn't trust him."

What a heartbreaking thing to hear a brother say about a brother, even if they weren't actually related.

"Course, you wouldn't. That's very comforting to hear, you know that?" groaned Erin. "I realize that you're still kind of sore about Chappick, but that doesn't mean you gotta—"

Mello sighed and put his hand on her shoulder, steering Erin to walk down the hallway with him. Whether she wanted his company or not, he wasn't one to leave a girl walking around alone. "Well, I'll say this: had Near lied to you about making adjustments, Acey would make him keep his word. She's probably the only person that sheep would do anything for. You probably won't have to totally give up your identity, but you would get an alias for safety reasons. You'd still be Erin Blogger to your family, but I doubt you'd be able to tell them what your line of work is, so you'd have to lie to them a lot. It'll be safer that way."

"Uh…yeah. I figured that much."

Mello paused and stepped in front of Erin. Narrowing his eyes, he put both his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Listen, if your intentions towards any of us are malicious in any way, I _will not_ let you get away with it. Understand?"

She could've done without the way he was squeezing her. From her perspective, just about everything about this—from the way he held onto her to the vicious glint in his eyes—reminded her of an all-too-familiar scenario from the past. Only this time, she'd found herself in L's place, looking out into a face hardened with fury, albeit of a more simmering kind. For the moment, at any rate.

L.

Her life had never been quite the same after him. L was pretty much the reason she'd wound up in this moment in time and this part of space.

Erin couldn't decide whether the quiet noise that escaped her throat in response was a chuckle without mirth, or a sob without tears. Both? "Dude, I can't even kill a cockroach. If I really wanted to hurt you guys, don't you think I'd have done it, by now? Honestly, I understand if you don't _really _trust me, but why even have me here if you don't?"

She closed her eyes to find some brief respite from the crystal blue gaze before her, and even then, she could feel it drilling through the spot between her eyes. "I'm not that talented, Mello. I've got this feeling that Near only wants me in the crew because I know L: the original, and the current one. He wants to keep L's secrets safe. Which I get, don't get me wrong. And Acey…I was told that she didn't accept interviews with _anyone_, before me. I'm wondering if my knowing old L had anything to do with that, too—why she's had me around for this long. Nah, I don't just wonder; I'm almost _certain _that that's the case.

"Not that that's a bad thing, in and of itself. Not _really._ If I had a mentor, maybe I'd feel the same way about somebody he got attached to, if only because there must've been something cool that he found in them. It's just…oh, I don't know, you probably don't even wanna hear it," she moaned with a shake of her head. How stuck she felt, right now. "As far as you're concerned, I'm just talking out my ass."

Mello closed his eyes for a long moment, and stepped away from Erin. The expression on his face softened. "I can't speak for Near, but what you say about Acey is true: she does want you around. It _is_ because you knew L. It still hurts her that his ghost is the only one she can't see. In her mind, by having you around, she still has a piece of him to hold on to. Something tangible."

…

Had this been under different circumstances, she might have been a little offended that someone could use her as a sort of substitute for a lost one. But this too, was understandable, in a strange way. Not a day had gone by since she'd learned about Wammy's House, much less met the kids, when he didn't cross her mind at least once. So, maybe their company produced a similar effect on her?

But if that were the case…

"Then maybe she's not the only one still mourning?"

Erin's eyes popped open as soon as she deemed it safe to examine the chocolate bar in Mello's greedy grip.

"Mello, if I'm allowed to make a comment, it seems that every time I've seen you around, you've always got chocolate with you. Ah, n-not that that's a bad thing; I like chocolate, too. But you seem to eat quite a bit of it."

…

"Did _he_ like chocolate, a lot? 'Cause he kind of gave me that impression when I knew him. He stole some from me once, actually; right from my lousy pocket." She chuckled (more to herself than anything), "I remember: it was Halloween. And I was gonna share it, anyway, on account of I felt so bad about his being all by himself…"

"Yeah, he did," said Mello, joining her in glancing down at his chocolate bar. A ghost of a smile flickered across his face when she'd mentioned L stealing the stuff from her. "He gave me a little bit of his when we first met. It was the first good thing I'd had in a long time."

He remembered every single detail about that day, a memory he'd hang on to for the rest of his life. He counted that as one of his best days, meeting the man he would come to respect and admire more than anyone, and tasting chocolate for the first time.

"Look, it seems like you still aren't sure about what do to about Near's offer. My advice to you is go talk to him about the things you're worried about."

Not that he highly recommended anyone to have even one word with Near, but it was a good idea for her to examine every angle of this before saying yes (or no). It would lesson her chances of making a brash decision.

Erin couldn't help the smile that cracked through her own lips. "Aw, see? I just knew that you didn't really hate him. Kids who grow up together don't hate each other. They shouldn't, anyway. Maybe I should…that depends on how busy he is, though, or if he's even here at the House, at the moment. I'd imagine that being the—you know, stand-in for L takes him out a lot?"

Mello glared coldly at her when she stated that she knew all along that he didn't really hate Near. "I _do_ hate him," he snarled. "He's still here, and I'm pretty sure he'll stay here throughout the rest of your stay, waiting for your answer before he heads out on location for another case with Acey. Well, that or he'll stay around long enough to fuck her, seeing as how he hasn't seen her for two months." His expression twisted with disgust.

Erin had no response to that except another hot flash, and not of the menopausal variety.

Just then, something else occurred to her. The Chappick case may have ended (on a very grisly note, at that), but that didn't mean the possible partnership between the two had left her mind.

Mello had released her upon reminiscing about his most precious memory, so Erin began to walk the other way, slowly, so as to keep Mello along. Having yet to get other his harsh rebuttal, she cleared her throat as thoroughly as possible before popping a new question: "Say, Mello. Is Near the only one who can be called L? Or can it be a joint occupation?"

He shrugged, biting off another mouthful of chocolate. "It's sort of a joint occupation. If Near gets too loaded down with cases, Matt and I take on some of them in L's name."

It was a wonder how frequently Mello's mood could shift throughout the course of one conversation. "Oh? That sounds interesting. Makes sense, too; if I can make a tiny confession, you remind me a lot of L. You and Matt and Near and Acey…you're spitting images of him. Well, he wasn't blonde, but…y-you know what I mean. So, you two _do _work together?"

"Are you stupid? We could never work on the_ same_ case. Surely, you noticed that when he pushed me off of Chappick's case."

…

"My head can only wrap around so many things at one time, buddy. I'm no genius. I fully admit it."

Mello fought not to roll his eyes once again. Obviously, this girl had trouble seeing the whole picture. However, her comment about his reminding her of L bit back the urge to make a snappier comeback than he already had made. He sucked on a piece of chocolate for a long moment.

"Thank you," was all he could seem to manage.

It was one of the highest compliments he'd ever received from anyone, and he didn't get very many. Not many that'd mattered to him, at least.

Erin grinned sheepishly in response. Perhaps this could've been a moment of true geniality between the two…

…had she not ruined it with another inane comment; such was a habit of hers.

"Hey, so, I'm assuming you're gonna walk with me up to Near's room? Maybe you can use the opportunity to make up with him. At least over this recent fiasco."

If Erin thought she'd ruined the moment, she was absolutely right.

Glaring at her, he forcefully snapped off another piece of chocolate, with much more teeth bared. "I'll go with you to talk to Near, but I am _**NOT, BY ANY **__**MEANS**__**,**_ making up with him about anything, got it?"

"Whoa, hey, easy!" she gasped, shielding her face with the palms of her hands. "I was just making a friendly suggestion. Don't get your chocolate in a boil."


	11. 03: 3

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, ****Ken'ichi Kanemaki's **_**Hell Girl. **_

_**03-3**_

With everyone in the cafeteria for lunch, Beyond Birthday made his way back from Acey of Spade's room. Kikuri, having had forgiven him, had returned to his side, skipping down the hall beside him.

He'd been doubly sure that he wouldn't have gotten caught. Erin Blogger was walking with Mello, and when B passed Near's room, he'd heard quite a bit of sighing and loud moaning from behind the door. He'd figured out that Acey liked _it_ rough; judging from the sounds he'd just heard, his deduction was corrected.

He hoped they finished in time before Erin and Mello walked in on them.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall. That would've been a sight to behold.

Kikuri giggled, standing up on her tip-toes when he looked down at the treasure he'd procured from the girls' room. Erin Blogger's hat.

He knew of her attachment to the dingy old thing, her hopeless vexation towards the fact that hats were inappropriate inside Wammy's House. When she'd thrown out his jam, she should've known better than to leave her hat out so that anyone could come by and snatch it away.

"_Kya ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" _

His cackle reverberated across the emptiness of the halls, harsh, unnatural, cruel, as it harmonized with the shrill tinkling of Kikuri's mischievous giggle.

All was fair in war.

…

Erin rapped her clammy knuckles against the door to the rhythm of "Shave and A Haircut," albeit inadvertently. This would be the second time she'd have spoken to Near, and already, she could feel her insides twisting and knotting around each other as they had, the first time. Oh, if only she'd taken the time to at least get her hat first! Granted, she couldn't have worn it, but holding it would've helped her enough.

Never mind how silly it was for a girl in her early 20's to depend on an old hat for extra security, as a little kid clung to a favorite blanket.

However, it was too late to turn back now. She'd already knocked.

It didn't exactly help to have Mello drill holes into the back of her head, all the while.

"Near? Are you…are you in? If you're not, you know, too busy, I'd like to talk to you. About that—"

The noises on the other side of the door clapped a lid over her throat, cutting off the timid trickle of words streaming from it. Her fist froze in mid-knock.

_Maybe_ she should just come back? It was obvious that he was busy.

"You really are a virgin, aren't you?" Mello stepped around her, and rapped his knuckle louder against the door. "Hey! Will you two finish up in there? There is someone out here that wants to talk!"

Was she that insignificant so as to not be addressed by her actual name?

"What? What is it, Mello?" Acey hollered a few moments after the noise fell to an abrupt halt. "I don't want to hear another word about—!"

The door swung open, revealing Acey wrapped in only a sheet. The expression on her face made it obvious she was more than a little annoyed at being interrupted.

Her jaw dropped somewhat when she saw Erin in front of Mello, however. Heat rushed into her cheeks; she was rendered speechless for a second. "O-oh my god, Erin, it was _you_ who wanted to talk! I'm so sorry!"

Mello broke out in a fit of laughter, earning an acidic glare from the medium. "Oh, that was great, Ace. I've been telling you for years you need to think before you open your mouth sometimes. Still, it's good to see that you've got color in those cheeks, again. No doubt that you've made a full recovery."

She glared at Mello again before she looked over her shoulder to see if Near had gotten dressed yet. "I'm sorry." If she hadn't already traumatized the poor girl yet, she was pretty sure she had now.

For ten seconds too long, Erin could only produce a series of unintelligible, uncomfortable grunts in a frantic attempt to form words. When words finally did bounce off her tongue, out sprang the following in a staccato yelp: "Never mind, I'll come back later!"

Her face had become almost as red and puffy as a hot-air balloon as she scampered down the hall, like a startled horse. All the courage she had mustered up until that point dissolved into her thumping footsteps across the hardwood floor.

Where the hell was Jaime? She distinctly remembered telling him to watch Acey while she'd gone out, make sure she stayed in bed. Her _own _bed! Was he honestly that unreliable?

By this time, Near appeared in the doorway. His clothes were a bit rumpled (not that this was terribly unusual under normal circumstances), a visible flush in his cheeks and a light veil of sweat coated his skin. Since Erin was just turning the corner, he dropped an intimate kiss on Acey's neck before he spoke in a gentle but commanding tone: "No, please come in, Ms. Blogger." He already had a fairly good idea what it was she wanted to talk to him about.

She stopped in mid-march, her leg hoisted into the air, when she heard Near call her back. Erin clawed helplessly at the wall as she fought to steady herself, nearly twisting her ankle on the landing.

"A—Are you sure?" she panted, her eyes fixed on a tree branch waving mockingly at her outside a window. "I'd rather not come back over until you're both decent."

She would _not _comment on it. She would not comment on their doing what she believed they were doing. It was not her business, nor did she want it to be. She had too many problems, already.

Near sighed, and twisted a stray lock of his hair. "Avert your eyes, if you don't like what you see, Ms. Blogger."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

He turned to look over his shoulder at Acey. "Acey, please go get dressed."

Nodding, Acey shot another apologetic look in Erin's direction before trotting back into Near's room. Keeping the sheet clutched around her, she bent down to pick up her clothes, and headed for the bathroom. In a way, she was relieved to have Mello with Erin on her walk. He would've stepped up to the job like a chivalrous knight to keep Erin safe if anything should've happened to her.

Even as Erin slunk back up the hall, her hand refused to part with her eyes. She had to grope the wall just to find the room again, while both Near and Mello watched with glazed expressions. "Okay. Am I getting close? You guys are sorta gonna need to be my eyes, for a minute."

To be frank, it crossed them both as a slight mystery—as much as they adored them—how their late mentor could find something attractive in someone like her. Particularly so when she finally reached the door again and, in all of her blind groping, somehow got Near's nose pinched in her fingers.

The sensation of warm cartilage peeled her hand off of her face. "Ah, oh God! Are you all right, Near? I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to do that!" she squealed, stumbling backwards into Mello as though Near would bite her for her transgression.

At this point, Acey was strolling out of the room to find Mello shoving Erin away. "Oh, for pity's sake!" Putting a hand on her hip, she glared at both boys. "I can't leave my girl in your hands for five seconds, can't I? Can't you pinheads guide her five steps down the hallway? This goes for you too, Jaime; I see you hovering behind that corner!"

She grasped Erin by the shoulders, putting her arms around her to steady her. "Erin, it's me. Stop and relax in my hands so you don't get hurt. I'm dressed now, by the way, darling."

She suppressed a snicker when she saw Near pucker his lips in disappointment.

Having squeezed her eyes shut to brace the hurting she thought would result, she popped them back open to see the top of Acey's blond head as her sight adjusted to the light. "Th-thanks, kiddo," she gulped. Suddenly, it had gotten considerably difficult to direct her gaze anywhere else. Not a good thing when speaking to the world's next best detective.

As eerie as it would seem, Erin had to admire how these kids took everything that most folks couldn't in stride.

Of course, they did learn from the best.

Eventually, Erin managed to roll her eyes up far enough to fix them on the top of _Near's _head, whose stark white messiness somehow vaguely reminded her of the dandelions growing in the cracks of her concrete city. The kind that she would stop to pluck and blow the fluffy petals off of as a little girl (and, on occasion, still did, because it was that much fun).

The children of Wammy's were like dandelion petals, in a sense, searching for a place in the world to latch on to and flourish in after floating away from their stem, that being L.

…

_God, what's up with me, today? Must be my hat, or lack thereof. _

In an attempt to break the discomfort between them, she squeaked, "So, uh, Near! Hey! How's—you know—how's work? Or is that classified?"

Acey pressed her hand to her forehead.

_Oh, work. At least I don't have to work by myself on this case. Both Near and I were requested. _

Truthfully, she'd been getting a little "home-sour." She'd just gotten home for the first time in almost two or three months, and not even a few days later she'd have to go back to work. It wasn't as though she didn't like her job, because she absolutely loved working as a detective.

But lately, she'd been…feeling tired.

_After Erin leaves, we'll have to go on site for the case. We're going to Italy, so it's not exactly like I mind. I know I'll get to visit some art galleries at some museums. Maybe, if Erin accepts Near's offer, she'll come with us, and we could go to the galleries together._

_Perhaps I can get myself a nice Italian pistol, too._

She smiled a little underneath her hand. She could still remember practically begging L for Watari to teach her how to use a gun. At first, she'd been a little gun-shy, but once she relaxed, it was discovered that she had a talent. Of course, once L discovered it could be of use to him, he'd didn't object to it as much as he initially had.

When she was given a gun, she'd even gotten to use it a few times on occasion when L asked her to go undercover with Jaime, and sometimes Kikuri if the situation was particularly dangerous.

…

_Reaching around to grasp the handle of the pistol she kept tucked in the back of her skirt, Acey pressed the button on the wireless radio. "Hey Ryuzaki, are you watching? Do I have your permission to take these guys down? My cover is blown anyhow, and one of these buffoons just grabbed my ass, and are now looking at Jaime and Kikuri. They are going to start firing rounds in complete fright in a few seconds."_

_L's velvety voice reverberated from the ear piece: "Very well. Just no life-threatening shots. We need them to talk."_

With Kikuri navigating her a few seconds before something happened, she'd taken five men down, without so much as a scratch, with two bullets to spare in the chamber.

She suddenly laughed out loud, causing everyone to look at her with somewhat startled expressions. L really would do _anything_ it took to meet the ends he desired, even if it meant permitting her to shoot the kneecaps and shoulders out of five men.

She really didn't know what was with her lately, though. She never used to get "home-sour" when she went away with L on a case. Maybe it was because she'd been all too happy to follow him anywhere he asked her to for however long he wanted.

She suspected that her anguish was because so many things that she'd kept buried and refrained from discussing to anyone for years, even Near, had been brought back in full force all at once, and she'd have a few days to use as down time to fix the messy state of mind she was in.

Not like she would ever show it if she was feeling vulnerable. She was too proud to do that. But she had a feeling Erin sensed it. Just like he could.

She always got snappy with L whenever he sensed she was feeling vulnerable (he'd had an annoyingly keen knack at it, at that), and made her reach out and tell him why. Even if he was cruel about it more often than not, he made her trust him enough be openly vulnerable around him.

And she had realized, sooner or later, that she'd come to love him so much for doing that for her.

"Acey? Are you okay?" a voice beckoned her back to reality.

Blinking several times, she peeled her hand off of her face to find Erin looking not directly into her face, but in her general direction. Her eyes were clouded and her lips were pursed.

"You okay?" she repeated, slowly, warily. "'Cause laughing for no apparent reason is usually a sign that you're not."

_Damn, she knows. Damn. Damn me for being so bloody weak. _

Acey worked quickly to erase any traces of vulnerability from her face. "I'm fine, sweet-pea." She placed her hands on Erin's shoulders to steer her inside Near's room. "Work is going great, actually. We're going to Italy for our next case. Just imagine it, Italy. Now please, come in."

Erin quirked an eyebrow. "Italy? Uh, wow! With the Leaning Tower and gondolas and the Coliseum? That Italy? Sounds awesome," she stammered as Acey shut the door behind them to leave Mello and Jaime outside. "Which brings me to why I am here. I'll get to the point, I guess."

Taking a deep breath through her nostrils, she steepled her fingers. "Near, I've been juggling your offer in the old melon for a while, and—"

Near was already seated on the floor, putting together a white puzzle with the letter L at the top corner. "I take it that you're in the process of reaching a decision. Please, continue."

Acey braced her hands against the wall behind her, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

_Has she really come to a decision, already? I really hope she's thought it over thoroughly. This job is a lot to take on. Not only that, it'll be dangerous. But, it'll give her a chance to spread her wings and fly. Give her a chance to make something grand out of herself._

_But…_

_What if I get her killed, like I did…_

_L, are you upset with me for getting her mixed in with us like I have?_

Her eyes fluttered closed.

…

"_Can you promise me something, Acey of Spades?"_

_She looked over at L, and cocked her head in question._

"_Promise me…that you will avoid acting or thinking solely out of selfishness if it can be helped."_

_She blinked slowly, stunned, before she nodded. "Je promets." _

Hanging her head somewhat, a sheepish smile quivered, but never fully blossomed, on her lips.

_More importantly, are you upset with me for being this selfish, just this once?_

In the meantime, Erin had planted herself on the floor facing Near. It seemed silly, yes, but once she milked whatever resolve she could retrieve, she figured that they be on the same terms, in more ways than one. Ideally, at least. "Well, I—that's sorta the problem. It'd be a really neat set-up and all, but I'm not sure if all the…conditions would make it worth it."

Using her fingers to illustrate her point, she swallowed and began to count her concerns off of them. "Like for instance, I get that I'll have to lie here and there about what I'm up to, maybe take up aliases. But I'm still worried about to what extent I'd have to do that. Like what if they wanted to meet my new 'boss?' You know what I mean, don't you?

"Number two: there's the travel. I love traveling, don't get me wrong, but if I became an informant for L, how much and how long would I be away from my folks? Would I have to leave them altogether? Like, pretend to suffer some horrific death, or something? I don't think I could put them through that. Jobs come and go, but you can't replace family. Add to it, sure, but never replace it…"

_Oh God, I must sound really pathetic, right now. _

"Three: what would I have to do exactly as an informant? Get information, I'd figure? Through espionage? 'Cause we all know I can't spy for beans. And four—"

Near put the last piece of his puzzle into place. "To address your concerns, I would simply talk to them via computer. You are correct in assuming that you will be required to take up an alias; as far as your family is concerned, you could keep in regular contact with them, so long as you tell them nothing about your location or what you are doing. For their safety, and yours, of course."

He turned the puzzle upside down, and in a rhythmic, practiced fashion that seemed almost as mechanical as the shiny robots he played with, began putting it back together. "Your job is to simply act as a journalist, gathering media information for me. If some espionage is required, I'll send Acey and Jaime out with you to do the leg work. Jaime is efficient at espionage, since he can't be seen by ordinary people. And Acey is more than equipped to handle the situation, should you blow your cover."

The way he'd articulated that last part made it sound as if Near already had this idea that if her cover would ever be blown, it would always be her fault, somehow. Erin could feel her head swelling with heat as her ego simultaneous shriveled inside it.

He grunted, looking up at Erin for the first time since this conversation had begun. "I'm not saying that it won't be dangerous, because it will be. You can be assured that the wages will be very much to your liking. However, if you choose to decline my offer all the same, then I can just as easily find someone else."

Acey pushed off from her place against the wall, her features suddenly taut with anger. "Don't talk to her like she is insignificant, do you understand me!"

Erin was the only one of the two who found herself scrambling up off the floor as soon as her side had made contact with it. "Whoa! Now what's the matter?" While being fully aware of the fact that this was exactly what Near was doing—out of impatience with her wishy-washiness, most likely—she hated seeing the girl so riled up. Or any of the kids, for that matter. They were dangerous when provoked, each in their own special way.

Unfortunately, since she'd been here, this seemed to happen every five minutes. Wammy's House was like a minefield.

Or should she say, _mind-_field?

…

_Blech._ No. Never mind.

Mello tore open the door and stepped in to mediate before Jaime could. Grasping Acey's shoulders, he put her back up against the wall. "Hey, cool it, Ace, all right?" Normally, he loved seeing Acey ream Near up and down the wall.

He predicted what happened next. She shook him off and ducked around him. There was no use in trying to stop her now. Reaching for her would be like setting a bomb off.

"You!" She pointed at Erin. "Are you seriously going to let him talk to you like that? If you are going to take this job, you _cannot_ let him walk all over you. You need to start fucking standing up for yourself!"

"Now, hold on, who said I was gonna—"

She started to quiver a little with anger. Something inside her just snapped. She wanted to cover her mouth, stop herself, but couldn't. Tears threatened to well in her eyes.

_No! No, I didn't want to feel this way again! The last time I felt this way was when I found out…_

Mello stared, a little stunned.

_Why does she care about this girl so much?_

He glanced at Erin. The look in his eyes said, _Are you going to get her or am I? Because this could get ugly, real fast. _Honestly, he really didn't care either way. He just didn't want Roger to come up here and stir things up any more.

And Erin had an eating suspicion that Mello could make things worse, as well.

"Ah, hey-hey-hey!" Acting on instinct, Erin scurried onto her feet to step between the girl and her boyfriend. "What's up with you, all of a sudden? Just a while ago, you two were—"

Oh, no, _no! Do _not _go there! _

Her frantic gaze switched from Acey to Mello, then Near, then finally back to Acey. "Let's just cool our jets for a minute, hey!" Honestly, Near had been speaking to her in almost the same precociously condescending way he had, the first time they'd met. Why was Acey throwing a fit, this time?

…

Unless this didn't really have much to do with Near, at all.

To get her undivided attention, Erin locked an arm around Acey's neck and rubbed circles into the top of her head with her knuckles. A classic noogie. Kids liked that. The kids she knew and the kid she used to be did, anyway.

Then again, those kids had been _normal_.

But then again _again_, kids were kids, weren't they?

Erin knew she was winging it, at this point. But in order to maintain peace, didn't one first need to calm down tempers? Well, Near didn't have a temper she knew of, but that didn't stop her from, against her better judgment, scooping him up off the floor with a free arm while keeping Acey wrapped in the other.

"Look, see? I'm standing up to him, look! _Grrr!_" she grunted, maneuvering both the young deadpanning detective and her fist to rub it against his cotton-white coconut while still keeping the girl under her arm. Consider it her way of reminding them that they were all friends here. Or at least, trying to remind them.

The fact that Near's blank, half-lidded expression did not change a muscle throughout the whole thing almost killed her, even as his tiny hands reached up to latch onto her forearm to weakly tug her off. He reminded her _so much_ of L. They all did.

At this point, the only reason Mello and Jaime were excluded from the huddle was because she only had two arms.

Standing with his arms crossed, Mello calmly observed the bizarre turn the situation took, and glanced at Jaime. "You know, I kind of wish Matt was here to see this. He'd probably join in."

Jaime nodded.

Acey flailed somewhat under Erin's arm. Squirming away, she fell to her knees, her palms flat on the floor. Squeezing her eyes shut, she worked to steady her breathing. Once she'd gathered herself, she lifted her head, and reached up to straighten out her hair, staring at Erin with wide eyes.

"…I can honestly say that no one has ever done that to me before…"

_And just like that, she got me in check. Hm, the only one who ultimately had that power was L. Did he secretly install some instruction manual into Erin on how to deal with me?_

_At least that _awful_ feeling has gone away._

Erin released her breath in an exhale that was probably more exaggerated than it should've been. Placing Near back onto the floor, she dusted off his shoulders as lightly as she could, sputtering, "Sorry about that. Here. Jigsaw?" She picked up the board containing the nearly completed puzzle and placed it into his lap with careful hands.

She couldn't help but notice that all of the pieces to it were as stark white as Near's hair and pajamas, with the exception of a few that were blotched with black. Put together, those pieces formed a shape in the upper-left corner of the puzzle. A small letter. A letter that had made a profound impact on her life.

_**L.**_

In the meantime, Erin assumed a new spot on the floor, Indian-style, as her arm found Acey's neck to form a loose loop back around it. Pulling her close, she panted, "Really? You've never had a noogie, before? You should. It helps to prevent cancer. Oh, and for the record, I don't know if I'm taking this job, yet. That's why I'm in here with you guys in the first place. Now, what's the problem?"

Diplomacy had never quite been one of her talents. And yet, here she was, playing peacemaker for the top students at Wammy's House, L's family.

Considering the tension she and L bared between them, and how they used to argue even over the most minute things during the Kira case, could this be considered ironic?

Acey regarded Erin quietly for a moment before leaning over to rest her head on her shoulder. "Nothing. I'm sorry I freaked out. Say whatever you want now," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

When she heaved out a heavy sigh, she expected to smell the potpourri of sugar and cotton that was L.

_More importantly, why did I suddenly lose it like that? I think some part of me was really yelling at L. Even though he'd exposed Light Yagami as Kira, he ultimately let Kira take him down like a common bully by writing his own name._

_But, wasn't that originally my plan?_

_Better my life, not his. That's how it was supposed to be._

_I can't keep acting like this. I know better than that._

"Thank you for getting Acey to stand down. Now, please continue," Near said nonchalantly, clicking puzzle pieces in place like nothing had happened.

Or more like, this sort of thing happened every day.

Erin shook herself a little, like a wet dog, probably from the sweat clamming up her skin. "O…kay. As I was saying…Near, I'm not so sure about the part where my folks could only communicate with you through a computer. Technology is sweet and all, but my family prefers to see employers in the flesh, if you know what I mean. At least once, maybe twice. Uh, not saying you need to show _your_ face to them or anything, but maybe have one of your guys pose as my 'boss?' Maybe Aiber or Roger…hm?"

Honestly, she felt so stupid mentioning this. Near and the others probably couldn't even grasp how important face-to-face interaction was, much less with family. They had been taught to go almost completely without it, lest they be killed. Her heart went out to all of them.

Acey's momentary meltdown wasn't helping matters very much. It refused to leave her mind, not nearly as easily as it had seemed to leave the others'.

"I'll do it," said girl volunteered, not lifting her head from Erin's shoulder. "They don't have to know if it's a boy or a girl, do they? That is, if you want." She lifted her head and glanced at Erin in question.

Honestly, she was curious to observe an unbroken home life. She didn't even know what it was. Maybe it would prove to be an interesting experience.

Near had abandoned his puzzle, in favor of the Legos™ stacked in waiting over to the side. "I suppose that would work, since you'll be in her care more than mine," he replied, adding a row blue Legos on top of yellow ones.

He somewhat admired Erin for examining his offer at as many angles as she had. Though she had yet to prove her worth to him, he was becoming increasingly confident, if he left her in Acey's hands, she'd be capable. It was such a rare thing to see Acey so in sync with someone like she was with Erin.

She cupped her chin and tapped on it with her finger. Acey, her boss? No. That wouldn't work very well. Her parents were a little on the naïve side—as naïve as parents could be—and gender was not important, but even they might've found it odd to have her new employer be someone even shorter and younger than she was. Or at least, so younger-_looking_.

"Hmm…I dunno, Ace. You look a little on the young side to pose as my boss."

…

Her fingers snapped. "But maybe you could be the 'secretary?'"

Why did it vaguely feel as though she were playing pretend with a bunch of kids? Perhaps because they were, in a sense?

"You know, the person who runs the office when the boss isn't in, someone to have coffee and gossip with—"

Mello snorted. "You can't be serious. Even L would've never asked her to play a part so beneath her," he said crassly, rolling his eyes.

"Then, would you rather stand in for her as my secretary, Mello?" asked Near, making fast progress on building a wall of Legos™ around Godzilla.

Mello looked enraged. Without turning to look up at him, Acey reached up to swiftly clamp a hand over his mouth, forcing him to swallow whatever smart remark he had in mind for Near. Jaime snickered as he watched Mello fight to remove Acey's hand from his mouth.

"Hold on, I think Erin's onto something," she said, paying no mind to the hot-headed boy, unlike Erin, who was a bit afraid that Mello would resort to biting or something along those lines.

She directed her gaze back to Near and tried not to concentrate on the fact that the world's greatest detective was fiddling with Lego blocks in front of her. Not that it was much different from how his predecessor used to stack empty cream cups and sugar cubes while negotiating with people, but all the same. Legos™ were almost too cute to bear. "Uh, thank you. Like I was saying, the 'secretary' is like the go-between for people and the boss, sort of like how Roger is for you, Near. I think. Acey would be the one I 'submit my stories through,' and stuff."

"I'm well aware of what a secretary is, Ms. Blogger," replied Near, glancing up at Erin for a moment before resuming his activity. "If you have concluded to accept my offer, then Acey will accompany you back to New York with Jaime escorting you."

"As you wish, sir," affirmed Jaime, sweeping his body down in a deep bow. "No harm will come to either of them while I'm keeping watch over them."

Erin simply couldn't help the brief, odd glance at the ghostly gentleman. Jaime meant well, she assumed. But he seemed fairly easy to get distracted, considering everything that had happened up until this point. "Uh, guys? I haven't said yes to anything, yet. Right now, I'm just, you know, deliberating."

Acey decided to have fun for a few seconds more with Mello before releasing his mouth. She could tackle dangerous demons and criminals, and shoot a human being without batting an eyelash, but she had to admit that she felt intimidated meeting Erin's family. It was a funny, semi-foreign feeling.

_I suppose I'll be all right as long as one of them doesn't try to touch me. Then we might have problems._

Just thinking about it made her pinch the bridge of her nose and roll her tongue out.

And just seeing her react this way had Erin's mind buzzing five miles a minute once more. "Oh, shit."

Now it was her turn to have a hand over her mouth, albeit her own, in hopes of covering the obscenity. "Ace, I just realized something: if any one of my folks touches you, they'll be able to see spirits, won't they?"

Almost like how one could see shinigami by touching their notebooks.

"They're kinda touchy-feely people. Well, not a lot, but sort of. We tend to alternate between handshakes and hugs, depending on who the guy is and how long we've known them. Or if it's my brother, you might get a noogie. He likes to do that to younger kids. Actually, that's where I learned it."

When they were younger and being stupid, Farley used to tell her that he'd wished and prayed with all of his might for a little brother, only to get her, instead. So, he'd "had to make do." He was currently off teaching P.E. to hyperactive grade school boys, no doubt relishing in all of the compensation the job gave him for all of those half-assed years of roughhousing that'd had to be diluted due to her gender.

"M-maybe, if we had to, we could tell them that you're sick and would prefer not to be touched? Like, you know, a medical thing."

Even if it went against her belief that a life without touch was no life at all.

Erin needn't have worried about Acey in that respect, however. At least, for the most part. She got the bulk of all the touch she could ask for from those she was close to. Especially Near.

…

Erin decided for the umpteenth time not to get into that. It wouldn't do anyone a mite of good if she couldn't look at either of them without turning unidentifiable shades of red.

…

"Come on…where _is _it? I know I left it right here…"

She had just tossed every pillow and sheet on her bed into a sloppy pile under the windowsill and was now on all fours, her cheek pressed against the bitterly cold floor as she focused her gaze into the dark, dusty emptiness under the bedframe. No beloved beat-up Fedora.

Erin paused to take a deep, slow breath: in through the nostrils, out through the puckered lips. There weren't very many scenarios that would make her strip so much of her dignity as to crawl about on the floor, much less have her not care if she did (so she would've liked to think). From this otherwise degrading position, she gave the room another once-over, from corner to corner, puffing a stray lock of hair out of her vision.

"All right, now don't panic. It couldn't have gotten far."

Acey sat on her bed, meanwhile, leaning back against the headboard, watching Erin strip the room board by board. The poor girl was so beside herself that she didn't even chide her for smoking as soon as she'd lit a new one in her lips. She'd sent Jaime out into the yard to look, and Wicked was even helping, looking in a tighter spaces.

She tapped her chin when the search continued in vain. Eventually, her hand would move up to the bridge of her nose to pinch it. "Erin? I think I know where your hat went…"

Kikuri's sudden absence only confirmed her suspicions all the more.

That had said girl springing upwards like a squirrel. Had she a tail, she would've flagged it as high as it could reach. "Say what? You found it? Oh, thank God! But then, you guys _are_ trained detectives!"

Erin shuffled across the floor on her knees until she'd reached the bed parallel to hers, one hand clapped over her head to shield her from the nakedness she would often feel without her precious Fedora. It was stupid, she realized, for someone her age to rely so much on an old hat she'd gotten at a yard sale as a little girl for a quarter, like it were a security blanket or something. In fact, most folks would probably write her off as disturbed if they saw how much it meant to her.

And perhaps, to a certain extent, she _was _disturbed. But wasn't everyone in one way or another?

She clung to the sheets of Acey's bed almost as though she were praying to a deity as she peered up at her young friend with hopeful but weary eyes, her nose wrinkled slightly at the sight of the cigarette perched in her mouth. "Well? Don't kill me with the suspense! Where is it?"

Taking courtesy towards Erin, Acey took one final drag before she stubbed it out in the ashtray. Waving the sickly sweet smoke away with her hand, she sat back so Erin could crawl up on the bed if she wanted. "It's either in one of two places…"

_This isn't going to be easy. If he hid it in the place I suspect, he's definitely taking a shot at both of us. I'd rather do this on my own, but since it's her hat, it's only natural that she'd want to come with me._

"…the attic at the very top floor of Wammy's, or L's old room."

…

For a moment, things between them fell still. Too still. Erin's grip on the sheets loosened until her sweating palms were now pressed flat against the surface of the mattress. It almost felt as though she were flat-lining, the ominous _eeeep _humming soundlessly in her ears.

By that point, her voice had dropped to all but a weak whisper. "No way. L had a room, here?"

She instantly kicked herself for her stupidity. Of course he'd have an old room here. This was where he'd grown up, after all. But could she really blame herself for the shock? For the bulk of the time she'd known him, Erin, in all of her ignorance, had assumed him the type who drifted like a lost, aimless kite or balloon from continent to continent, country to country, city to city, suite to suite, from sea to freaking shining sea. With no anchor. No place to rest. Nobody waiting for him.

The mere discovery of otherwise should probably have made her feel at least a little better about him. But still, she felt so odd, all of a sudden. Not quite the good "odd," either. This sort of "odd" felt thick and murky, the way one might feel when approaching a loved one's grave. Or a grave, in general.

Erin swallowed down the sticky wad burgeoning in the walls of her throat. Maybe it was best to go with Acey's judgment on this one. After all, she was the detective of this duo. Still…

"What…makes you think it's all the way up there? Who the hell would go out of their way to toss my hat in there?"

Another brief tension-laced silence later, she gasped. "You think it was Kikuri? Geez, that kid seems to really like messing with people, doesn't she?" she groaned, reaching up to rest her face in her hand.

…

Erin almost flat-lined again as soon as it clicked in her mind, prompting a dizzy hand to clutch feebly at her chest.

What she'd assessed about the foreign ghost-child was true. But not nearly as true as it were in the case of someone else they knew.

As much as she wished that they didn't.


	12. 03: 4

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, ****Ken'ichi Kanemaki's **_**Hell Girl. **_

_**03-4**_

"I don't get it, Ace. Why would he do that?" Erin kept asking over and over in a daze, clutching her head in either mild agony, or because she really needed something over it until her hat had been recovered. She didn't quite know, anymore. Her other hand was snug around the younger girl's as Acey led the way up the stories of the House, which to Erin, felt like a hundred, the way she felt then.

"Why would that dirty snake do that? What, is he getting back at me for dumping the stupid jam? Or…what?"

Acey had been staring at Erin's hand for most of their trek. She'd had fallen into a somewhat marveled state.

_She took my hand like it was the most natural thing the world. She's the first human being to touch me willingly without flinching or hesitating._

She snapped her eyes back up to Erin, and nodded after a moment. "As ridiculous as it sounds, yes. B was as childish as L. 'If you take something of mine, I take something of yours.'"

Paraphrased in L's lingo: "An eye for an eye, my friend."

Pausing, she tipped her head up to see the cord that would pull down the ladder for the attic. Standing on her tip-toes, she tugged the cord, reluctantly letting go of Erin's hand to steady its descent towards them. "Stay behind me and step exactly where I do. This ladder is pretty old, so some of the rungs are naturally unsteady."

…

She began a ginger ascent up the ladder, glancing behind her every now and then at Erin, ready to steady her if she stepped on a brittle part of the rung. "This attic is kind of special to me. I was prone to the occasional night terror during my first few months here. My first one was probably the worst. I hallucinated so badly that I recognized nothing here, and I was convinced I was fleeing my mother again."

She moved a little to the left on one the rungs, and continued, "I came up here and barricaded myself in, wouldn't come down for anyone. I caused quite a commotion, as you can imagine. L just happened to be coming back from a case, and Roger went to him as a last resort. All it took was a few soft words from him to coax me back down."

She bit the inside of her cheek. The cool draftiness of the room blasted into her flushed face as she reached up to pull the string to click on the light, carrying with it the heavy, musky scent of dust, history and melancholic meditation. "Don't tell anyone, but I kind of felt like a princess being rescued by some sort of knight."

Erin took the tiniest of baby-steps on the climb, not simply because she was afraid of tumbling back down to earth and breaking her neck. "Don't worry. Even if I wanted to, it's not like anyone would believe me. No one ever believes me…I swear, that's my catchphrase."

She didn't join Acey in the actual attic, right away, either. She didn't feel that she deserved to be up here, in a way. To be honest, she as a foreigner felt like she was committing a crime. Intruding on such a sacred place like a snooty, greedy treasure-hunter breaking into the tomb of a proud ancient tribe. The lone light bulb dangling above their heads illuminated the cluttered, creaking space like a lone torch, and she watched the darkness escape in the form of shadows flitting in and out and across and behind the neat stacks of boxes and shelves.

Though the ladder had begun to moan in protest of having to bear her weight, Erin stayed huddled on the fourth-last rung, daring only to poke her head in to look around. No sign of her hat, so far. Eventually, her eyes came to rest on Acey's calves, whereupon she noticed how, from this angle, the girl and everything around them appeared to have been molded from pure light and shadow, like a figure from straight out of an old museum painting.

What was that technique called? Chiaroscuro? L probably would've known, even if she'd never imagined him to appreciate the arts very much. He'd seem more like the type to know it for the sake of being smarter than the next guy.

"Don't be ashamed of feeling that way, at any rate. The guy was your hero. He was everybody's hero here…wasn't he?"

The scent of musk and memories was suddenly making her a bit queasy. She used to write him off as an "attic-dweller" in their early days. Well, maybe not out loud, but all the same. Now that she'd been given the chance to peer directly into Wammy's attic, _L's _attic…well, she just felt like a downright heel, right then.

That didn't include the nastier things she'd had to say about him later on, either. About him and to him.

Acey stifled a giggle as she stepped deeper into the artificial dusk. "'Princess' is not a word you would normally associate with me, anyway."

"So…d'ya see it anywhere?"

Frowning, she put one hand on her hip as she surveyed the attic. Not a thing seemed out of place. B would've purposely left something out of place if he'd left the hat up here.

_So he did leave it _there._ Ter-fucking-rific._

Sighing, she ducked under a thin, low-hanging curtain of cobwebs. The floorboards groaned beneath her feet as she headed for a corner by the dust-coated window. Taking a seat on the floor, she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and closed her eyes. She remembered being huddled right here, and opening her eyes to see _him_ kneeling in front of her.

A heavy ache settled on her heart.

Her friend could only watch her from a distance, unsure of what to say, or even whether she should move in to comfort her.

Her eyes snapped open, suddenly remembering that Erin was waiting for her down on the ladder. Scrambling to her feet, she almost stumbled face-first into the cobwebs as she darted back to the doorway. Peering down at Erin, she offered the older girl her hand to help her up inside.

"Come on, it's all right for you to come up. Your hat's not here, but there's something I want to show you since we are."

"Huh?" Erin stared at the outstretched hand like she were…she couldn't even come up with a simile to describe how she stared at it. She simply stared at it.

It took her longer than it should have for her mind to process that she'd just been invited into the attic. Well, in that case, maybe it wouldn't hurt to have a quick closer peek? That is, as long as the girls were together. Leave only footprints, take only pictures. Pictures of the mental variety, that is, as actual photography was forbidden at Wammy's House for reasons that did not need explanation.

"Um…okay. Thanks, Ace." She stretched a hesitant hand out in return to grip her companion by the wrist. "What's it you wanna show me?"

The attic didn't seem quite as huge and forbidding from this new view as it had from the ladder, but still, Erin was almost rendered speechless with awe for all of these memories gathered around the two. Like ghosts that had taken on solid forms, yet remained inanimate and arcane to the outsider without the aid of a native guide.

Acey couldn't help but beam at Erin, pointing to three or four rows of boxes stacked against the wall. "Those boxes over there look like ordinary boxes for storage, right?"

"Well…sure, I guess."

"Wrong. Pictures and real names excluded, the files of everyone in this place, dead or alive, are kept in those boxes. You can't tell anyone that I've shown you this, or Roger will gladly skin me alive. I stumbled across these by complete accident, I swear." She rubbed the back of her neck and shuddered at the memory of how she'd tripped over her own feet and knocked one of the boxes over, getting a face full of dust in her face. _Ah._

Tapping her chin, she tilted her head up towards the ceiling, looking as if she'd just remembered something important. "I guess I should tell you this while I have it on my mind."

She reached into her back pocket, extracting a dirty, dog-eared playing card.

The Ace of Spades.

Acey handed her namesake over to a shivering Erin. "Everyone here is required to keep an object on them at all times. The purpose for this is for identification, in case one of us gets killed in the line of duty. You'll be required to do the same, if you take the job."

She flashed a bright smile completely inappropriate for what she was talking about. "So if Near ever calls you to identify my body, look for this in my pocket, 'kay?"

While it wouldn't be right to label Erin's feelings toward Acey's seemingly cavalier attitude towards death as disgust, she didn't exactly find it admirable, either. Perhaps because L had treated the concept in a similar way. Except, he treated it more like business as usual, even when it came to his own. Like just another due to pay.

Although, considering what he and his group had been through in life, perhaps their casual treatment of death was only natural? Maybe they had the right idea? Erin remained unsure. She wanted to tell the younger girl that she was worrying her, but what would be the point in that? She could feel her apprehension carving deep wrinkles into her face, robbing it of its natural elasticity for her later years.

Her later, limited years.

Erin rubbed her thumb over the smooth surface of the black Ace in the center of the card. She had just been allowed in on another secret to Wammy's House. She was having more and more trust invested in her, for reasons that she had yet to fully grasp, let alone accept.

That alone almost made her want to cry, childish as that sounded.

"Okay," she muttered to the card quivering in her hands. What else could she say? Her free hand reached upwards without a thought to fiddle with the brim of her hat…only to meet cold, thick emptiness, instead, thus reminding her of what had brought them up here in the first place.

Acey reached to out comfort Erin, placing a hand on her head and stroking her hair in a soothing manner, hoping it would make up for the absence of her beloved hat. It probably wouldn't, but she had to try. "Hey, I'm going to get it back for you. I promise. I'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget about messing with your things."

_She looks like she doesn't understand why I'm placing so much trust in her. It isn't the same situation, but I think I know how she feels. She's thinking, why me?_

_I asked myself the same question when L told me he'd saved me. He didn't have to do that. He could've just passed me by, but he didn't. Did he really see _that_ much in me that night? A dying girl, soaked in blood couldn't possibly have looked very significant._

_I wasn't even fighting to stay alive. And yet, he decided to fight for me._

"…Thanks."

…

If Wammy's House could be compared to a pyramid in the heart of the jungle, L's room would have been the king's chamber, the most forbidden room in the entire architecture. Oh, what would he have thought about her poking through his personal stuff? Erin couldn't even bring herself to touch the cloudy gold-tinted knob, which looked as though it hadn't been polished in quite a while. Dusk was falling upon them by the time they'd left the attic and reached their second destination, and as the pair stood in front of the door for a moment of almost reverent moment of silence, the air around them had become thinner, cooler. Stiller.

Erin's hands were trembling so violently at this point, she prayed that Acey would overcome her cold feet first to open the door. There was no way she could even get a grip on it, in the state she was in.

"So…this is it? Old L's room, huh? There aren't any booby-traps he'd had installed that I should know about, are there? Poison darts, trap-doors, alarms…"

She couldn't help her paranoia. That just seemed like something L would do in order to protect what was his. The man was insane, that way.

Naturally, Acey was just as shaky as Erin. The closer they'd gotten to his room, the more her entire body shook as she walked. She squeezed Erin's both to give comfort to the older girl as well as herself before she let go, reaching for the doorknob. Her finger brushed against it, coming back coated with dust.

She laughed somewhat. "No, there isn't anything like that in here. In fact…well, the room will speak for itself…"

Trailing off, she looked both ways, and behind her before she opened the door, which greeted them with the softest of creaks from its hinges.

As it did, Acey almost expected to find him on the floor in front of his laptop. She chided herself for such vain hope, and the disappointment that followed. Hope that everything up until this point had all been some sick nightmare, that she was being summoned to his room like usual. And disappointment that it wasn't.

It just made her heart feel all the more heavy, that it was becoming hard to keep herself on her feet, like she would collapse under the emotional weight.

His room was faded with age and virtually sparse, like a confinement room in an institution, save for a bed, and a desk. His desktop computer sat on the floor in the far corner by the window, from where the dying hues of dull, throbbing orange and purple poured in to paint the room with the most color it had had for a long time.

_Gosh, he wasn't too big on furnishing, was he? _The very sort of room Erin would imagine him to have if he'd have one, and one of the few rooms in Acey's life that she was oh so familiar with. In hindsight, it was actually a little funny, considering all the money he must've spent on fancy hotels and an even fancier headquarters of his own.

She wondered if it was still standing over there in the bustling city of Tokyo, as a monument that no one would recognize if they looked at it.

As far as Acey knew, the last person to have been in his room had been herself. The night she'd returned home from Japan, she'd come in here and typed a letter to him on his desktop before spending a sleepless night in his bed, lying stricken with anger and grief. Despite knowing where he'd gone, she'd left it on all night, hoping that maybe he'd come around at some time and read it.

"I think I used his bed more than he did," said Acey, trying to smile more for Erin's benefit than herself. It was a hopeless attempt. "Whenever he was here, I'd come into his room when I had nightmares. I never admitted that I was too afraid to go back to sleep by myself, but I think he knew. I always slept soundly knowing that he'd be sitting up all night."

She glanced over at his bed. _The sheets are exactly as I left them._

"Somehow, I believe that, his not using the bed so much, I mean." When Erin had been living with him, he'd confided in her that he hadn't had much experience with beds. In fact, the first of the few times she'd seen him engaged in actual sleeping, he'd been curled up in his little upright monkey-crouch in his chair.

Maybe that would've explained his horrible posture? He couldn't even _sleep _right. Or at least, it was one of the reasons for it.

For such a bare room, even as she scanned it once from top to bottom, her hat was still nowhere to be seen in the open. What the hell could B have done with it? Had he slipped it under the bed, maybe in the desk?

Honestly, she was almost too afraid to touch anything in here. But the colors of dusk were slowly flickering out into pitch, unrelenting darkness, prompting Erin to start searching for a light.

When she saw Erin shuffling about, Acey reached behind her to flip the switch. If Erin wasn't with her, she would've looked for her hat in the dark; having keen vision in the dark was one of the perks of being a medium. Before she started looking for her companion's hat, she turned to Erin.

"Hey. Don't think that you shouldn't be in here, all right? You have every right to be here, too. But I won't hold it against you if you want to wait outside."

She knew Roger wouldn't be happy with her for bringing Erin with her to L's room if he found out. Then again, Roger should have known better than to try and exercise his authority over her. She couldn't ever remember a time where she'd ever listened to Roger.

There was only one person who had complete and total authority over her, and now he was gone.

"What, huh? Oh. Uh…it's no big deal. Well, not a _terribly _big deal. I mean…i-it just feels kind of strange to me to go through a dead guy's stuff. Especially if the guy was someone I knew. And didn't get along with all that much, and who probably wouldn't appreciate it if I was in here…"

And if it turned out that said guy might've actually been in love with her. Or at least, liked her more than he'd dared or cared to let on.

Acey wrapped her arms around herself, now finding it difficult to look at her. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm sorry that I wasn't able to save him. Both of them. If I had, then we'd be here under different circumstances."

Groaned Erin, "Oh now, cut that hamburger talk, already." She marched around the girl to place her hands on her shoulders. Such tiny, scarred shoulders…

In her most even voice, she said, "Stop taking blame where it isn't due. What happened all those years ago is no one's fault but theirs. Beating yourself up for it isn't going to change a thing. It's certainly not gonna bring them back."

God, that must've made her sound like the biggest hypocrite to ever walk the earth. Or at least, _one _of the biggest. But she couldn't simply stand back and watch someone pick themselves apart over a tragedy they couldn't have averted, no matter what. Especially if they refused to specify just how exactly they'd failed.

"I should know. I tried."

Acey forced herself to look up at Erin, flashing her a wobbly smile.

_Her loyalty and faith is unwavering. Was she like this with you, too, L? Have I really found another person I can depend on?_

Since his room had so much empty space, it was easy to give it one more through once-over from where she stood. No hat. Acey gritted her teeth. She knew B was hiding somewhere, watching their every move, listening to every word they said. It made her angry that he could play their emotions like a viola, and enjoy every minute of it. She imagined him weaving in and out of the most sacred rooms of the house with Erin's hat in hand, taunting them like a fox with exasperated hunting hounds on his trail.

She would be damned if she was going to let him get away with it.

She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It looks like your hat isn't here, after all. All right, I'll think of something else. But for now, how about we go catch a late dinner, then you could come down with me to feed the horses?"

Erin nibbled on the inside of her bottom lip. Her mind and heart refused to stop looking for her hat, but her body was weak with hunger and fatigue of both the physical and emotional varieties. Besides, she couldn't bring herself to sift through L's personal things. For all she knew, everything he owned belonged to Near, at this point.

"Yeah. Let's get outta here."

In the same fashion that they had entered, they exited with Erin behind Acey. But this time, she kept her hands on her shoulders all the way out, gently guiding her out the door before stepping out herself.

"God, I hope he hasn't done something nasty with it."

Against her better judgment, she paused to scan the room for the umpteenth time, from floorboard to dust bunnies clinging for dear life to the corners of the ceiling.

Pleading for forgiveness in her mind, she clutched the knob to pull the door shut. Between her thumb and forefinger, though she hadn't quite meant to. Almost like how he used to do it.

…

Dinner passed by with little words exchanged between them. Every now and then, both girls would glance up from the piles they'd organized on their plates with their silverware to eye parts of the room whenever they thought they saw a blur or flash in their peripheral vision, like two squirrels on constant alert in the presence of a wily feral cat waiting in ambush.

It wasn't as though Erin could look very much elsewhere. How naked she felt without her hat! She had to keep her hands occupied by dividing her piles of food into even smaller piles so neither could reach up to clap over her head, in which she couldn't remember feeling more vulnerable.

After ten minutes of trying to force herself to eat, and only successfully making it through three bites, Acey gave up and pushed her plate away. She thought she would be agreeable to ice cream, but she pushed even that away, focusing most of her attention on the case file in her lap, leaving room for Erin to lean over and read it if she wanted to.

Old habits seemed to die hard, because she prepared herself, waiting to hear L make some comment about her not eating. A back and forth verbal sparring between them would've ensued, consisting of L stirring her up until he broke her down, and Acey snarling at him to leave her alone.

Kikuri was playing with Wicked under their table. She was concerned that the girls had decided to sit away from everyone else. Crawling out from under the table, she reached up to tug on Erin's coat sleeve.

"Erin-Onee? Are you and Acey-Onee sad?"

Blinking back into reality, Erin jolted in her seat. "Huh? Wh-who said that?" Rubbing the crust out of her eyes, she leaned in towards her right to peek under the table to find the familiar Japanese phantom dangling a shoestring in front of the cat's eager face.

_Kikuri…she fools around with B, sometimes, doesn't she? I wonder…_

As though her guts couldn't get any more knotted, she swore she could feel a hernia coming on when she thought about the faceless nemesis. "Oh. Hey, kid. I, we—well, I've lost my hat. Or more like, somebody stole it. We've been looking high and low, and can't find a thread of it anywhere."

Gulping down the budding lump in her throat, she leaned in further under the table to whisper, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Her fingers tightened their grip on the edge of the table in anticipation for her answer, and to keep her anchored into her seat.

Kikuri grinned up at Erin, holding the shoe string up out of Wicked's reach as he stretched her paw up to reach it. "I might," she answered with a giggle that sounded rather esoteric in Erin's ears. To add to it, her vaporous eyes to glance around the cafeteria, as though she waiting for something. She cracked an impish grin when she saw Mello darting across the room towards them.

Acey was about to tell Kikuri that Erin was staying right here with her when she saw Mello. Closing the case file, she raised an eyebrow at him. "Mello? Where's the fire?"

"Ace, Damien got out."

Acey abruptly stood up, almost knocking her chair clean to the floor and spilling the papers from her lap. "_What?_ How'd he get out?"

Mello tossed her a heavier jacket to put on over her other one. "I don't know. He's hopped the fence and gone up into the woods. Matt's already ahead of us," he panted.

"What the hell? No way! Are you being _serious?_"

"I rarely kid, Blogger," snarled Mello, his face taut and dark with impatience, on top of dripping from the bangs downward. "Come on, we've got no time to waste!"

If there was one thing that Wammy's House was incorrigibly poor on, it would be peace. Peace of mind and peace among brethren.

Acey caught the jacket, groaning when she saw billowing sheets of rain pouring outside, thrashing the windows like an orchestra of frosty cymbals. Turning to Erin, she quickly pushed the case file across the table to her. "Here, take this back up to my room when you're finished eating. Jaime should already be upstairs. This might take a while, so don't wait up for me if you don't want to."

Kikuri waited until Mello and Acey had rushed out of the cafeteria together to crawl back out from under the table. "Uh-oh, Acey-Onee is going to get all wet." She tugged on Erin's coat sleeve again. "Erin-Onee, I didn't want Acey-Onee to get mad at me, but I know where your hat is. Come on, come on!"

Erin didn't consider herself a very hateful person, but there were quite a few things she certainly could've done without, including the feeling of being pulled in every cardinal direction, plus a few currently unclassified. She couldn't understand how these kids could put up with this on a daily basis. "W-wait a minute, kid, they might need help! I miss my hat, sure, but—I-I better get Roger."

Granted, Erin didn't know the first thing about wrangling horses, but she couldn't just let those kids go about it on their own. Especially in the dark woods. More especially in the middle of a pouring rain. They'd get clobbered, for sure!

Succeeding in toppling her own seat over as she clamored to her feet, she tucked the file under her arm began making haste to her right, only to realize that the tightening grip on her sleeve had fixed her into a meaningless jog in place. Girls were stronger than they were credited for, particularly little girls. Little _ghost _girls, at that.

Kikuri stubbornly stamped her foot as she tugged Erin's coat sleeve with increasing force, puffing out her cheeks before she spoke. "No, Erin-Onee! Acey-Onee will be fine. Damien doesn't listen to anyone but Acey-Onee, so as soon as she catches up with him, and calls his name, he'll come right to her. Roger is a mean old man that hates kids, so Acey-Onee and the others will get in trouble if you go get him. Now come on, come with me."

Roger, hating kids? Well, the guy did seem rather on the crotchety side, but hate sounded like too strong of a word.

Her lower lip quivered with hurt, tears shining in her eyes like slivers of glass. "Doesn't Erin-Onee trust me?" she asked, wiping the tears away with her hand.

_Oh shit, not the face! _

Erin cleared her throat in between catching her breath when she stopped her jogging in place. She could barely maintain eye contact with anyone wearing the Sad Eyes of Doom, for they had a magic power of their own, that being guilt. "Well, i-if you want me to be perfectly honest…ah, look, time's money, and I don't want them getting hurt if I can help it. You can point my hat out once this is over. Deal?"

Her pulse banging out an erratic drum solo in her ears, Erin resumed her sprint. Or at least, she would've, had the little ghost on the other end not almost yanked her arm out of her socket. She didn't even want to look into her face at this point. Children gearing up to throw a tantrum killed her.

…

Maybe she should stop using that word, "kill?"

"What's your problem, kid?" she snapped, not intending to sound nearly as mean or boorish as she might've. "I get it that you've got almost no comprehension of life and death, but—"

Letting go of Erin's sleeve, Kikuri puffed out her cheeks to an even greater volume than before, stamping her foot this time in frustration. She'd thought that her tears would've worked for sure. This woman was just as stubborn as Acey.

Only one thing left to do.

"Huh…?"

Reaching into her kimono, she pulled out Erin's hat, which had been flattened in order to remain hidden within its folds. Folding it out into its original shape, she spun around in a circle, giggling as she slapped it on her head. Giggling again, she took off running.

"Wh—_hey! _That's my—!"

"You can't catch me, Erin-Onee! You can't catch me!"

Little ghost girls were also fleeter of foot than the everyman would credit them for. Kikuri had released Erin so abruptly that she'd almost tripped over air. Now here she was, chasing said ghost in a frantic weave through the aisles of tables and chairs when she should've been chasing reinforcements.

Given the situation, who could blame the breathy, exasperation-fueled mantra of curses spouting from her: "Damn it, damn it damn it damn it, god_damn _it!"

She did manage to spot a girl in pigtails on the way out of the dining room. Even though what exactly the hell was going on had flown miles over her head, the least she could do was get help _somehow. _While she still didn't know the other residents very well, at least they could be sensible enough to lend a hand, if only for a minute?

"H-hey girl! Get Roger, willya? There's a horse on the loose! 'Kaythanksbye!"

Had this been under normal circumstances, she would've taken the time to give the bewildered girl a more complete explanation. But as she'd told Kikuri, time was money (which apparently, was another concept that Kikuri couldn't wrap her mind around). She continued the pursuit on a wing and a prayer without so much as a second glance to see if the girl had decided to accept her request.

Kikuri ran out of the dining hall, and down the corridors, giggling madly with glee. Clutching the hat in her tiny hand to keep it from fluttering off her head, she turned to look at Erin over her shoulder, her large purple eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement. This was so much fun!

"Na-na-na-na-na!" she taunted, wiggling her tongue out at Erin. "You can't catch me!" Unlike Erin, who had to bob and weave to keep from knocking down other children, the ghost child had the upper hand, sending a sharp chill up their spines as she passed straight through.

Turning the corner, she trotted up the stairs, prepared to look behind her at a heaving red-faced Erin and taunt her just a little more to clinch it, and laugh at her when she tripped on the way up after her, clinging to the banister for dear life.

"I swear to God, kid, you better…if you don't cut it out right now, I'm gonna…"

At this point, Erin was almost ready to pass out from exertion, her legs threatening to pop out from their sockets as they squealed in ache. She had to bounce back and forth from the walls for support just to keep going.

As soon as Kikuri darted through the door to a room across the hall from Acey's, a silky deadpan tone greeted her with an admonishment:

"Kikuri, please return Elin's hat to her, and stop making trouble."

She skidded to a stop, grinning widely up at the figure crouched in a chair next to the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest. A young man, clad in baggy faded jeans, and a rumpled white long-sleeved shirt, his naturally dark hair so unruly that not even the likes of the most durable brush could tame it. The heavy bags under his eyes accented their deep inky color, which seemed to sparkle ever so slightly with amusement as he peered down at her.

Erin had just reached the door and begun jiggling the knob as she fought to get a grip on it, when she heard him.

"_Kikuri, please return Elin's hat to her, and stop making trouble." _

…

Just hearing that almost burst her aorta and both vena cava into a thousand pieces across the country. She froze.

_Th—that voice. _

Perhaps exhaustion was now causing her to hallucinate. For the moment there, she could've sworn she'd just heard…

"K-Kikuri, you in there? Wh-who's that with you? Is someone in there with you?"

With her hat still perched on her head, Kikuri passed back through the door, smiling wide and mischievous up at her. "Come on, come on, Erin-Onee," she urged, tugging firmly on Erin's coat sleeve again, and pointing up at the door knob. "He's waiting for you."

Erin had been taken so much by surprise, she barely put up much resistance beyond trying to tug away, demanding in an increasingly shaky voice, "Wh-who? _Who's _waiting for…what the hell are you—"

Since Kikuri had this misconception that Erin could pass through solid objects with her, she had to open the door as she was dragged inside.

And as soon as her eyes rolled to the side of the room in front of her, there he was.

Clear as spit.

To a certain extent.

Reality as she knew it shattered like a gunshot through a windowpane when she saw him, time like a dead watch. Even as a ghost, he hadn't changed a mite. Not a hair out of place, or in place, for that matter.

Erin's knuckles moved up on their own to give her eyes a fierce rub-out. He was still crouching there, assessing her, fixing her in place with an unblinking, owlish gaze and slight cock of his head.

…

…

…

"…_L…?" _

Kikuri let go of Erin's hand, and darted back across the room towards the young man and started running circles around his chair still clutching Erin's hat on her head, giggling with mirth. Upon being addressed, he glanced up at her. He peered out from underneath the thick, black bangs that shielded his eyes.

"You really shouldn't rub at your eyes that way; it's not good for them."

Without looking down, he reached down and gently plucked her hat off of Kikuri's head, holding it out to her between his thumb and index finger.

"You seem surprised, Elin." He looked away from her, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes in a classic look of contemplation, pressing his thumb against his lower lip. Even in death, his inappropriate mannerisms and nonchalant attitude hadn't changed in the slightest.

Surprised? _SURPRISED? _That dork! Why the flying fuck _wouldn't _she be surprised? No, "surprised" wasn't even the right word to describe how she felt. _No_ word was strong or accurate enough. The guy had been dead for almost _**three years. **_Even after meeting Acey, she hadn't caught a whisper of him anywhere.

Now, just as she was coming to terms with the reality of never seeing him again, he shows up from out of thin air. Like there's _absolutely__** fucking**__ nothing __**fucking**__ wrong._

These last few days had been like a perpetually cold, overcast sky cast over her, with the constant threat of rain hanging over her head, but never quite delivering. This was the catalytic clap of lightning that finally burst those clouds wide open, sending every emotion that had been condensing in those clouds crashing down on her like a sudden, unrelenting deluge of rain. Soaking her to her very soul.

Oh, the whirlwind of things she'd been meaning to say to him and yet assumed she would never get to—how much she hated him and how indebted she was to him and how sorry she was and where the hell had he been and what was it like in the afterlife and was Light there too and how she's met his family and God, they missed him so much like she did and how horrid he was and how much she loved him—where could she begin?

But not a word would stand still enough to solidify in her mind, much less come out of her mouth.

Erin had instead resigned to instinct as her first response. The instinct of launching herself into him (and prompting Kikuri to scurry out of the way) to hold him as tightly as possible, complete with the hardest, most justifiably melodramatic sobbing she had ever heard and yet not finding it in her to care. She didn't even reach for her hat, which remained dangling in L's outstretched hand. Never mind how she was able to grasp any inch of him while doing it, L somehow managed to retain his balance on the chair upon impact. For someone so gangly and clumsy-looking, he'd always had that talent of keeping poised in the craziest of situations.

She had forgotten in all of the commotion how much he hadn't liked being handled so roughly; she spent the bulk of her focus on how cold he felt, like Jaime. But rather than the sensation of chilled water, it felt as though she were clinging to a giant block of solid ice, welding her to him as a tongue would to a frozen stop-sign pole.

_So cold. So deathly cold. _The tears she shed into his shoulder could freeze her eyes shut. No matter how tightly she hugged him, she couldn't make him a single degree warmer.

He was still in her arms for a few moments more before he put an arm around her, stroking her hair with the palm of his hand before gently placing her hat on her head, brim up.

"You seem tired, Elin. It seems that I've caused you a lot of pain."

He always was a big fat Captain Obvious—Christ, he felt _**so cold,**_ even more so now that he was returning the gesture, something he rarely did in life. She didn't even know anymore why she was shivering: because of such otherworldly cold, or because of her tears?

Moreover, why was he addressing her by that alias? Was he that stuck in the past, even now that she was here at his childhood home and introduced to his family?

The very first word she managed after his name was a strangled, _"Erin." _

"Hmm?"

L was going to turn her into a human popsicle, but she still wouldn't get him go. Probably not even if her arms got frostbite and shriveled out of their sockets. Not until she could organize everything she wanted, needed to say, and then said it. "I-it's Erin. Remember? Aliases mean nothing. They meant nothing then…a-and they still do."

Withdrawing his arm from around Erin (mercifully enough), he rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, returning his thumb to its place on his lower lip. "Hm, I suppose you're right," he chuckled. "During my absence, it seems you've managed to meet Acey of Spades. I do hope she hasn't caused you too much trouble."

His chuckle sounded odd in Erin's ear; she'd never heard him so much as chuckle throughout the entire investigation. She wasn't even sure if that string of quiet, restrained, close-lipped grunts could qualify as "chuckling." Or perhaps it sounded odd to her because she found it far too inappropriate for the situation? L almost always did everything backasswards.

She herself pulled away just far enough to look him in the eyes. Death had accentuated the vast abysmal depths within them. She had to blink every few seconds to keep from getting sucked into them, not to mention ease the sting of the tears that refused to yield. "Y-you think this is f-f-funny somehow? You kick me out before you die—of a heart attack that you _subjected yourself to_—and then just when I start adjusting to the fact that I'm never gonna see you again, _POOF! _Here you are, chuckling like this is all supposed to be some kinda—L, I oughta kick you to fucking Timbuktu!"

Even if he deserved to be kicked all the way to Timbuktu, she wouldn't do it, though. After that outburst, she resigned to more crying, instead, burying her face back into the ice-block that his shoulder had become. "You haven't changed a mite," she heaved. "You're cruel, L, I swear to God, you are."

…

"An accurate assessment," he replied, resuming the action of brushing her hair.

The face of her new medium friend flashed in her mind at the mentioning of the word "cruel."

"…And not just to me."

As soon as she mentioned that his cruelty had extended beyond her, he ceased his stroking motions. "I suppose you're right. Acey must be in a great deal of pain, as well. She was never quite as stable as my heirs."

All of this agreement…somehow, it didn't feel very natural. Then again, talking to a dead man she used to know wasn't exactly the most natural thing in the world, either.

"Don't kid yourself. They're all hella smart and driven kids, but I wouldn't exactly consider any of them as all together, if you don't mind me saying. They've _all_ missed you. And so have I. Th-they want me to work with them, actually. Well, Near does, the one who's supposed to be you, now. Offered me a job as an informant and all…I haven't agreed to anything, naturally, but…"

She decided not to ask L why he had never mentioned anything about Wammy's House. He'd had his reasons. That much, she could understand on her own. If she were a super-sleuth mentoring child prodigies who were supposed to follow in her footsteps, she probably wouldn't feel inclined to mention them either. One never knew who would be listening. At the moment, she wanted to focus on the fact that L was here so as to bury the hatchet stuck in her chest.

"But yeah, Ace has been in horrible shape. She's the reason I'm even here, right now. Acey…oh, no. _Acey_," she hiccupped in horror. "Oh my God, _Damien!_"

This time Erin drew back far enough so as to have L at arm's length, her numbing hands clutching his shoulders. Well, her right hand held him, but the left was really beginning to twitch, hurting almost as much as her eyes, her head, her heart. This, of course, did not go unnoticed by L, who fixed his gaze on it as though analyzing every achy joint and damaged tendon in it.

Erin's feet began to stamp under her with the anxiety to leave the room, if only to get this Damien business smoothed out. "L, l-listen, I-I gotta go back and help her. I'll be back, I swear I will, but—but her horse, he—and then Kikuri, and then you—oh, I'm sorry, L, but I gotta—"

When she turned to leave, his hand shot out in a flash to lock around her elbow, the sudden contact sparking a sharp chill to zigzag up her arm. He intensely stared up at her, his wide, inky eyes deeply penetrating hers.

"_Stay_. Acey is capable of holding her own."

How uncomfortable, to have one's arm freezing to the brink of gangrene, yet their face frying to a crisp. "Have you _seen_ the size of that guy? A panicked horse _that _big could smash someone _her_ size into a pancake in seconds flat! In the rain, no less! Besides, you just said she's not very stable. I-I dunno if you've heard, but she's begged me on several occasions since we've been here not to leave her."

…

She felt like a drowned rat. Even with one of Mello's heavy leather jackets on over her own, Acey shivered. The heavy downpour of rain hadn't let up since she'd gotten outside. It was a cold rain, the type of pinprick cold that when the rain hit her skin, it created a chill that seeped through her skin, deep down into her bones. Her hair, dripping like a mop, plastered against her cheeks and forehead. Her fingers were starting to freeze around the lead rope.

Mello wasn't much better off than she was. In fact, he was perhaps _worse_ off, seeing as how the crazy fool had bolted out into the rain with her, wearing nothing but leather.

Damien plodded along in between them, shiny with rain. Mud squished underneath his hooves as he walked. His head was down in a dejected fashion, showing that he was sincerely sorry for causing so much trouble for his master and her friends.

Matt, who was just as soaked as they were, was waiting for them in the doorway of the barn with a handful of towels to dry off Damien with. As they got closer to the barn, Acey did a double take, frowning severely when she saw Jaime standing with Matt in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she asked curtly as Damien came to an obedient stop next to her.

Jaime shifted his weight, uncomfortable under her gaze. "Lady Kikuri said that you requested my help with Damien, so I—"

"_WHAT? _You left Erin alone!"

Jaime recoiled, his mouth half-agape with a mix of shame and horror.

Turning to Mello, she shoved the rope into his hand. "Dry him off for me, please. And don't follow me." She turned and bolted back out into the rain towards the house.

On her way up the slick stairs, she lost her footing, and tripped. Pain seared through her knee as she staggered to her feet, and took off running again. She could feel blood trickling from the scrape on her knee, feeling boiling hot against her chilled skin. She didn't stop running until she reached the dining room, panic coursing through her body and mind spinning from oxygen deficiency.

Throwing open the doors, she darted past other children, barely giving them time to move out of her way to avoid her crashing into them. She knew she received plenty of looks, most of which were almost as dirty as the mud she tracked on the floor, but she ignored them.

When she saw the abandoned file lying spread in an array of papers at the legs of Erin's upset chair, her eyes widened, her heart jack-hammering in her sternum as though frantic to complete her search without her.

…

"Hmm, that's true. Acey is, as I've heard some people say, 'pint-sized,' compared to the average individual, and Damien is indeed large in stature. He was bred as a show-horse, after all," said L, tracing the outline of his lips with the tip of his thumb, narrowing his eyes as if to do a quick calculation on what the percentage was of such an outcome actually occurring. "But, I imagine she's been able to subdue him, by now. Damien always heeds when she calls him."

…

"I would ask you if you were sure, but that would just be plain insulting, wouldn't it? To be honest, sometimes I didn't know whether to admire your ability to keep your head on or spit in your eye. I still don't."

Then, just like that, Erin could feel another round of tears coming on. "Where have you been?" she whispered. "When you died, I-I thought you disappeared into…Acey, she told me that she's been trying constantly to reach you, but couldn't. So…where've you been? How, you know, is it?"

…

"How's Light?"

He stared quietly up at her when she began to rave again. If he was alive, he was quite sure he'd be quickly slurping tea, as if nothing was really wrong. Erin couldn't seem to say anything mean to him, and mean it beyond the moment she'd said it.

"To be honest, you are making it sound like I have absolutely no confidence in her ability to hold her own, at all," he answered, looking away from her with a thoughtful pause. "She has the power to reach quite farther than she knows. While I did go to Mu, I haven't been able to see Light once since I've been there. The land of Mu is vast, and very cold…"

He trailed off, sliding a cool glance at Kikuri, who suddenly jumped her to her feet to bolt out the door, snickering for reasons that had flown miles over Erin's head, for it was now hanging when she'd heard L's description of Mu.

_Death is a cold and lonely place. _

"Oh. I see."

…

This was it. She could finally truly begin sweet, sweet reconciliation.

"L, I…listen, s-since you're here and all. A—about those things I said, the last time we saw each other…I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Well, I mean, actually, yeah, I _did _mean it, b-but not in the exact words I used. It's just that—you lied to me. And you were being such a selfish punk, sending me home while you were dying, and after what happened with Watari and Light and Misa…aw, dammit!"

Erin thrust her watery gaze back into his face, her right arm reaching out to wrap around him as her trembling left hand pressed against the wall behind him to support her. She simply could not get over how cold he was, especially since he would remain so for eternity, no matter how many hugs she'd give him, and yet she couldn't stop. "L-look, the point is, I didn't mean to leave you with the implication that we weren't friends anymore. I've been thinking a lot about it since then. Not a day goes by when I don't, hardly. Jesus, I-I-I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to me that you're here, L. You _did _care. You cared a lot, didn't you?"

…

Acey closed her eyes to shut out the distraction of her surroundings. If she focused hard enough, she could find her. Her aura remaining on Erin's skin was still traceable just enough.

_There!_ In the room across the hall from her's.

"Acey-Onee! Acey-Onee, there you are!"

Her eyes snapped open to see Kikuri bounding towards her. She jumped up, and threw her arms around her, giggling, "Want to come play, Onee?"

_Oh my God, I __**don't **__need this, right now! _

Acey wrestled a clinging Kikuri down from around her neck. Her jeans, still heavy with rain, hindered her movement as she dodged the laughing ghost-child chasing her around the corridor. Her lungs burned as though filled with battery acid as she doubled back around her, and took off down the corridor again, putting Kikuri behind her.

…

He listened to Erin pouring out the apology she'd kept bottled inside her for almost three years. Contemplatively silent for a few moments, he passed his thumb across his lower lip as he glanced away from her.

She still didn't like it when he got all quiet like this. In life, he usually became quiet before saying something she hadn't wanted to hear. Had he forgiven her, or at least begun to? Funnier still, it didn't sound like him to admit to lying. He'd had seemingly no problems with lying during life. Then again, there had to be some reasoning behind the existence of the cliché, "Dead men tell no tales."

"…I suppose I'd be lying if I said I didn't—"

He glanced up at the door, pausing abruptly, like he couldn't finish.

Footsteps. Thundering towards the room.

The door swung open, hitting against the wall somewhat roughly, revealing a gasping, shivering Acey as she collapsed in the doorway. "You couldn't pay me to run that fast, usually," she panted, her eyes darting across the room until she spied Erin.

"Are you all—?"

Her eyes widened when she glanced at the perched figure next to her, her broken breath hitching in her throat.

For some reason, seeing Acey wet but not trampled into a pancake made Erin's urge to cry all the stronger. "A-Acey! Aw thank God, you're okay! Is Damien back in the barn? I'm so sorry! I-I tried to get reinforcements, but then Kikuri—and then—and then—"

She released L for the sake of rocketing across the way to snatch up Acey by the shoulders with rattling hands, her voice cracking with every sob wracking her body. _"He's come back, Acey. B-by some sort of miracle, L's come back to see us from beyond the grave." _

Wiping at her eyes with her forearm until both became raw and red, she stopped take a jagged gulp of sweet, sweet oxygen. Where did they go from here, now that they had been reunited?

As student and mentor stared one another down, she hiccupped, "You were saying?"

The reaction Acey gave was not of the sort she would've expected. Putting her ice-cold hands on top of Erin's, she peeled them from her shoulders, and stepped away from her. She narrowed her eyes at him for a long moment before she closed then, clenching her hands into fists.

"…How dare you," she hissed. "How dare you come here…"

The air around the three of them seemed to snap, the very second she opened her feral eyes, wishing she could will herself to stop shaking. Unclenching her fists, she bolted two or three steps toward him…

…before she gracefully round-house kicked him square in the side of his head.

"_**AND PRETEND **__**TO BE HIM!" **_

Erin couldn't find it in her to bite back the terrified scream ripping from her throat as she watched him tumble off the chair and land on the floor with the loudest of thuds, sprawled across it on his stomach like a splattered frog. Of course, she herself was far from happy with him, and had said she wanted to kick him to Timbuktu, but—

"A-A-Ace, wha-what the hell?" was all she could say as she raced over to help L up, only to have Acey's thin arm thrust out in front of her like a blockade. The tension between her and the phantom before her had already grown so hot and palpable, Erin almost thought that the room was about to erupt, like a volcano in all of its unabashed fury. An utter un-relief from the bitter cold she'd felt with L.

"Stay away from him," snarled the younger girl, low and dangerous, like her cat when in male company.

Erin's fingers fumbled their way up to the collar of her blouse as she tried to process her words. "Ace, I-I don't—what the hell're you—"

…

Just what did she mean by "pretend to be him," anyhow?

…

…

"…L?"

Said phantom had squirmed about on the floor until he was now in a sitting position, peering up at the two of them with his head cocked to the side, disheveled and deadpan, like a broken doll.

A creepy broken doll.

For the smallest of moments, this vaguely reminded Erin of the time she had watched L's first big fight with Light, in which Light had catapulted him clear across the room off of his knuckles.

That is, until they saw the corners of his mouth, once a thin flatline on his pasty face, twitch ever so slightly.

Acey's laugh was so horribly bitter. She moved her arm so that Erin was maneuvered behind her. "Did you honestly think you'd get the slip on me for that long? It was a great effort, though, I'll give you that. You even had Matt running around outside in the rain. And I'm going to really let Jaime have it when I see him for letting this happen. You made me run, fast. You know how much I hate running unless I absolutely have to."

She lunged towards him again for a second assault, but Erin darted out to wrap her arms around Acey from behind, holding her back. She didn't put up a fight with Erin.

"_Whoa whoa_, Ace! What the fuck is going on?" cried Erin, holding Acey tighter against her.

_This is wrong this is wrong this is wrong wrong all wrong—_

**"_THIS IS _**_**ONE OF THE MOST FUCKED UP THINGS **__**YOU'VE EVER DONE, BEYOND BIRTHDAY! DO YOU HEAR ME****!**_**"** she snarled venomously, sick with rage. Tears trickled down her cheeks and off her chin, boiling every inch of numbed skin they touched.

The twitch they'd seen a moment ago stretched into a full-blown smirk, malicious and amused.

The clouds above them burst once again.

"So, I suppose I have been found out."


	13. 03: 5

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, Ken'ichi Kanemaki's **_**Hell Girl. **_

_**03-5**_

She should've known. Erin should've known that the remote possibility of ever seeing and reconciling with L again, even as a spirit, would be far too good to be true. Hell, she should've heeded the red flag that had shot up the instant this imposter had chuckled at her, something that the L she knew—or thought she knew—had never done.

But how was she to know that the notorious Beyond Birthday would come to them as a spitting image of him, distinguished only by the blood-chilling grin that contorted his face? No one had warned her beforehand.

Or if they had, she just hadn't caught it. A textbook example on the lethality of poor communication.

Beyond Birthday rubbed the side and back of his head. He almost called Acey a neophyte, as she kicked just like L. But, that might've earned him another one, which she would've been all too happy to deal out. He knew she didn't have the same training, but she kicked with almost the same grace and power that L did.

He'd felt it since he still had her blood in his system. The smirk remained steady on his face. "You are really angry with me, Acey of Spades."

"Angry? I'm _angry!_ Angry doesn't even _begin_ to cut it, B!" If it weren't for Erin keeping her in place, she would've lunged to hit him again.

It was all Erin could do, so overloaded by emotion that in a way, she almost felt nothing at all. It was like the ominous blue screen on a computer, the buzzing snow on a TV, the sensation of running away from the monsters in her dreams and yet never moving fast enough, to the point where the more she struggled, the more fixed in place she became.

He had betrayed her, again.

No. L _couldn't _have betrayed her, this time. L was dead, gone to a place where he could never hurt her again, not directly—goddamn it, why did this guy have to look _just like him? _What did she or anyone ever do to him to incur his wrath?

He was getting off on this, wasn't he? On the fact that she had, just moments ago, poured out her heart and soul to him as she mistook him for someone she loved and hated and wouldn't stop bobbing in and out of regret with. Crying in front of him only helped to boost his satisfaction, as would kicking the dog shit out of him even when he deserved it, but she let the tears drip without resistance. She couldn't afford the strength for it.

With Acey still flailing in her arms, her soggy clothes bleeding into her own, she lugged all of the weight into her heels to start towing the girl out of the door.

_Walk away. Just walk away. Don't give him what he wants, for whatever the hell reason he wants it. _

"H-hey, wait!" Acey dug her heels in and fought Erin all the way towards the door. "Are we just going to let him get away with it? Playing pacifist isn't going to work this time, Erin!"

Granted, she too didn't want to deal with this. She was cold, tired, needed a hot bath. To curl up in her nice warm bed and sleep for as long as she could. But all that would have to wait.

By this time, B had climbed back into his perch in the chair, watching the girls with amusement. What a brilliant display this was, Acey's naïve friend trying to drag her out of the room, away from him. "You have no idea what Acey has done, do you?"

That ferocious toe-curling tingle invaded her very being like a fit. Was he talking about the thing that Acey had been so evasive about regarding L's death? What would this guy know about that, anyway? Erin closed her eyes. She had to, if she were going to waste her breath on a response. She simply couldn't bear to look at him. He looked too much like him. A damn practical carbon copy.

No. They were _not _going to entertain him.

"Dude, just piss off," she said, her voice too flat and scratchy and sharp to make her believe that she was even the one saying this. It felt as though she were tumbling around in a strainer, a little more of her soul seeping out of every pore for every broken breath she drew. "Whatever your problem is, keep us out of it. We never did anything to you."

What a way to address a deranged serial killer. But then, it wasn't as if she hadn't done something similar in the past.

_I swore I would protect her, and I will. If anyone is leaving this room, it's going to be her, if I can help it._

Acey turned on the offense with a bewildered Erin, trying to shove her out the door. "Get out of here. Go find Jaime, and the boys!" She turned to look at B, and sighed. She really didn't want to deal with this. "And make it fast! Go now!"

B got to his feet, smirking wider, if it was possible. Time to deal some sweet payback, and Acey was the closest one. No hard feelings, but he needed her out if his way.

_Shit, he's coming too fast! I can't counter him! This is going to really hurt._

Acey shoved Erin towards the other side of the room, away from the door, just in time for B to deliver a swift kick to her sides, sending her tumbling to the floor. _"Kya ha ha! _No hard feelings, love, she was just in my way," he said, slamming the door shut. "Did you really think I'd let you leave without hearing me out? I have an interesting piece of information to share with you."

Erin had barely regained her footing, the room just beginning to stop spinning, when she grit her teeth. Still, she refused to look at him; she squinted her eyes as tightly as possible to keep tears in them, for that very purpose.

Once she'd hit the wall, Acey rolled over on her stomach, coughing. Wincing in pain, she pressed on her ribs to see if any were broken. Once she'd assessed that all twelve pairs were still intact, she rose to her knees, trying to get back her bearings fast enough before B made his next move.

"Hey! Leave her alone, y-ya crummy bastard!" So much for putting up the stoic act. If Erin was anything at all in the world, it was not stoic. She reached over to pull Acey up to her feet, only to keep her behind her as she clenched and unclenched her sweat-saturated fists at her sides. "I thought I told you that we weren't interested. Now get the hell out of the way."

Despite the situation they were in, Acey had to stifle a laugh. Erin was reminding her so much of herself. She'd spoken to B this way on numerous occasions. But that didn't seem to faze B in the slightest. A feisty attitude just gave him more to work with.

Behind Erin, her body coiled like a spring despite the pain she was in, ready to counter B at a moment's notice. He wouldn't get by her, next time. Catching her off-guard was a lucky break. She started to reach behind her, but stopped when her fingers felt nothing.

_God, I wish I had my side-arm with me. Not that it would do much good against B, though. Bullets would slow him down, but not effectively incapacitate him. I should've thought about carrying it with me, and used the fact that he drank my blood to my advantage. Damn it, damn it, I'm trained to _not_ make mistakes like this._

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, I swear I'll decimate every part of you," she snapped dangerously.

B cackled softly. The words from both girls amused him all the more. In turn, his laughter helped to drive them both mad. "I remember you speaking in that same manner when it came to protecting L." He fixed his gaze on Erin. "Tell me, do you know why Acey was so willing to die for him during the Kira Case?"

"You shut your mouth, B! You have no right to even talk about him." Now it was Acey's turn to clench her fists. "If it came down to his life or mine, I would've gladly given mine for him without hesitation."

This time, Erin wouldn't dignify him with a response. That, and because this left her at a genuine loss for words. He wasn't going to let them go, was he? Why did it mean so much to him to talk about this? She may not have known what exactly had transpired between him and L, but she would think that it would placate his twisted soul that L was dead and gone.

She would've much rather had Acey discuss it when she was ready, for all intents and purposes.

…

Never mind that, where the hell were Jaime and the others?

Acey was extremely proud of Erin for keeping a cool head on her shoulders. The silence around them was practically palpable, like the calm before the storm.

She had a bad feeling about this.

It didn't matter if Erin didn't want to answer him. She didn't have to. All he needed were her ears. B took a step back so that both girls were fixed in his line of vision. "Would you say that at least one person always knows someone's best-kept secret?" His eyes seemed to gleam with malicious intent when he glanced at Acey.

"I believe a more accurate adage is, 'It takes one to know one.'"

Ugh, more riddles? L had loved to speak in riddles, and to varying degrees, so did everyone here at Wammy's. Erin didn't like riddles. They made her want to get the guy in a headlock and noogie him to baldness until he'd cut to the chase.

She would _not _touch this guy, however. Not anymore. To think that she had _glomped _this bastard just minutes ago made her want to blow chunks across the room. She felt disgusted _and _disgusting, as though the pure evil radiating from him had begun to fester all over her, like a cold fungus.

…

And yet, she couldn't completely ignore his words. _"It takes one to know one." _

_Eyes that could see death…B and Acey could see death…_

The lump in Erin's throat threatened to blow a hole through it as she stepped backwards, hoping to keep the medium behind her and the ghost before her as far apart as possible.

It would've been a great help if the cavalry would show up about now.

Acey began to feel panic curling its terrible fingers around her. She knew she was going to have to make a split-second decision.

_I have to tell her before he does. There will be less damage control if she hears it from me._

But B beat her to the punch. Only Acey's eyes detected how fast he moved. Suddenly, his lips hovered, to Erin's chagrin, right next to her ear.

Smirking, he whispered, "Would you like to know when you are going to die?"

Oh, how slimy and wretched his voice sounded at this distance, like worms in her ear canal, so cold that it could give her brain frostbite. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braved the chill of his spirit to promptly push him away by his lousy forehead. She swore she'd never touch him again, but goddamn it, he was getting too close!

"No, I _don't _wanna know," she growled. The only thing she needed to know about death was that it would happen to everyone eventually. "And even if I did, how would _you_ be able to tell me? Can you see my lifespan or something?"

Acey wrapped an arm around Erin's waist, guiding her some steps backwards. "You are getting too close, B." She refused to let any emotion other than anger surface on her face. But B saw the subtle flicker of panic within it. Acey was completely at his mercy, now. And he couldn't say he didn't enjoy it.

"Oh? She doesn't know?"

"_Don't you dare_," she hissed, pivoting sideways three steps. If she was going to lash out at B again, she didn't want Erin to get caught in the crossfire. The physical crossfire, at least.

B's eyes followed her like a vulture's would his prey. "If only you'd had mentioned what you knew from day one, maybe he would still be alive. Right, Acey?"

He swiftly caught her fist in his hand when she struck out at him.

"I said, _shut up_," she spat, glaring venomously up at him. Without even realizing it, fresh furious tears trickled from her eyes. God, she hated that she was crying in front of him! Almost as much as when she would cry in front of L.

Now it was Erin's turn to pull Acey back to safety, whatever safety this situation would allow them, anyway. B made it increasingly harder to not respond to him through his taunts and riddles, torturing her psyche in a unique double-technique of prodding her curiosity and clawing at her old scars by his mere appearance.

Her throat quivering with the aching need to speak, she too found herself wishing she could rearrange his dirty face, if only to take away from the resemblance that haunted her so. But would it have done her any good to tell Acey in front of him to back down?

_The Eyes…is B talking about the Shinigami Eyes_, she wondered, a profound sense of dread weighing her down when she half-realized that she might have begun caving into him again. _What is he implying, that Acey knew about the Eyes even before L did? But that's bullshit! Why would she not tell L about something so important…? _

"Oh, you are so lucky she's holding me back or I'd be pounding you into the ground." Ordinarily, she actually enjoyed sparring with him. It'd been a good way to blow off steam when L was being a jerk. He was much more fun to spar with than L.

L had tended to go about it in a half-assed way, like she was totally predictable and he, bored. She could swear he acted because he knew it pissed her off, which had only served to fuel for motivation.

But, unlike L, B wasn't afraid to hit her.

And Beyond believed her. He wished Erin would let her go, giving her free rein to unleash her fury. All her delicious fury. He was quite confident that he could turn it against her until she collapsed to her knees, weeping and pathetic.

What a sight to look forward to.

Though it hardly showed on his face, Beyond was genuinely surprised to see the tiny medium stand down each time Erin, more or less, asked. She stopped on a dime, the same way she had for L.

"You're growing soft, Acey. Look at you, standing down when she tells you to. It's not like you. If you aren't careful, you'll grow weak in her hands," he taunted, cackling a little for good measure.

"Come here and say that!" She lunged at him, only to have Erin haul her back. Gritting her teeth, she growled with frustration. Clenching her fists, she dragged in a few deep breaths. "Erin, I need you to tell me what you are thinking, right now. _Please._"

Her own voice barely crawled past a deliberate breath as she cupped whispered to Acey, "I know it's hard, but you need to stop reacting to him. Lunging at him like this is exactly what he _wants_. I've only just met him, and I've figured that much."

Despite herself, her fingers dug into Acey's shoulder, for she wasn't the only one barely hanging in there. Beyond could break her bones or slit her throat or strike her down with a heart attack, but while she would've preferred none of the aforementioned, she refused to let this guy destroy that precious sliver of sanity and dignity she still had in the name of getting off.

L had had a more profound effect on her than she could wrap her mind around, even when she had the time to.

Keeping her grip on Acey, she switched her gaze back to the monster in front of them—as much as she hesitated to call someone by a name so dehumanizing, she simply could find no other word to describe him. It was like confronting Light all over again, but with L's face plastered over him.

"What are you insinuating, dude?" she asked him, her voice as even as she could make it for the situation. She could ask questions; she just had to leave her passion out of this, if she and her friend were to get out of this alive. "Acey cared too much about him to withhold information from him of any kind, especially if it had something to do with the Death Note or Shinigami Eyes."

Silence taut with tension grabbed at them both around the throat like murderous hands.

"…You used to have a Death Note in life, didn't you? You traded for the Shinigami Eyes, which is why you're talking all this garbage about my wanting to know when I die. They let you see that, don't they?"

What she couldn't understand, among other things, was why Beyond was wandering the earth as a spirit instead of having disappeared into the Nothingness that she had lost quite a few friends to so long ago. Unless he never actually used it and generally kept it like a twisted antique. After all, he seemed all too clearly to be a more hands-on sort of killer…

_If he did have a Death Note and Shinigami Eyes, maybe Acey just never found out about them until it was too late. Post-mortem, or something. There's __**no**__ other reason why she wouldn't tell L. _

None that she could see, anyway.

Beyond wagged a finger in front of her nose. "Hmm…close, but no cigar. That didn't apply to me…"

His smirk widened.

"I was _born_ with these."

His eyes flicked above her head. "Your last name is spelt with two G's, I see."

…

The room felt as though Beyond had cast his vile chill around them like a flurry of snow, seeping into her pores and turning her blood to slush.

_WHAT? No way! _A guy could only get the Shinigami Eyes by trading half of their lifespan to a shinigami! They couldn't possibly be_ born _with them!

Could they?

On the other hand, maybe the idea wasn't as far-fetched as it seemed at first glance? Shinigami could drop their notebooks into this world, into the hands of some unsuspecting Joe or Jane, at any time and place, through clumsy claws or through boredom. Who was to say that their _eyeballs _couldn't fall to this world into some unsuspecting new life with the same ease? Erin couldn't see how that would work exactly, but after everything she had seen, it had become a practical moral wrong to write _anything_ off as impossible.

B's eyes suddenly darted from above hers to Acey's head, and then back again, as though doing a double-take before he burst into a fit of loud, maniacal laughter. _"Kya ha ha ha ha ha ha! _Acey's lifespan has finally stopped ticking up, and it seems that you two are destined to die two hours apart from each other!"

_Lifespan…ticking up…_what did _that _mean? Did that pertain to the "condition" A had mentioned not so long ago?

…

_Aw, shit. _

Erin had no way of knowing whether Beyond was lying about their remaining time on earth to faze them, or was making a reference to being the one to take them out. If she were, she would've thought that he'd off them much sooner than that. Then again, Beyond loved to play with his kill. He'd made that fairly clear with all of his shenanigans up until this point, the mere fact that they were still standing for this long after finally meeting him.

No one, human or spirit, had the right to take life whenever they damn well felt like it.

Not being one to stick to one plan for very long, the turn came for Erin to do the lunging. She almost wasn't aware of the sensation of Acey ricocheting off of her hands as she tossed her out the door before pinning Beyond to the ground in a half-nelson. Her go-to move when confronting a killer.

The deathly cold squirming around and beneath her made her every sensory tie to reality swim, to the point where she sounded as though she were gargling when she shouted, "Acey, get outta here! Go get back-up!"

"_Tch! As if! _There is no way in hell I'm leaving you!"

"Don't fuckin' argue with me, kid! Not now! You're not stupid, so stop acting like you are!"

B flinched upon the utterance of that word, stunning him for a rare moment before he threw Erin off of him. _"Backup."_ That word infuriated him to Hell and back. His hand shot out towards Erin's throat, aiming to kill. He was determined to silence her, here and now. For good.

He would kill them both, and when he did, he hoped L would be watching the whole thing, from wherever he was. The idea of the great L being helpless to stop him thrilled B to his very core.

Acey, who had fallen over backwards, gasped. _"No!"_

Scrambling forward on her hands and knees, she pushed herself to her feet. For one heart-stopping second, she didn't think she was going to make it. Her panic threw her aim off, her foot connecting with his shoulder instead of his side.

Ice wrapped around Erin's neck like a choker too small for her when it suddenly thawed, however slightly, around the skin of her nape, warm and clammy with sweat.

Drowning. It felt as though she were drowning. Why did the back of her head throb so much?

"What're you doing? I told you to get help!" Not that she was ungrateful for the life-saving gesture, but she'd already said that this was not the time for arguing. She didn't really have the time to be.

Panting, Acey grasped Erin's shoulders to hoist her up, recklessly putting her back to B. "Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how close you came to dying?" She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as fresh tears brimmed in them, relief slackening her weary body.

"I told you, I wasn't going to let anyone die like that _ever_ again!" she choked back a sob.

Kikuri floated through the door upon hearing the yelling and commotion. Examining the scene, she made the decision to go get Jaime or A, passing back through the door as silently as she'd come. Both her big sisters really were going to die if she didn't do something.

Circumstance would not grant them time to console each other, however, much less take notice of the ghost-child. Shaking off the daze, B had loomed over the two once again.

"_Look out!" _

Shoving Acey down by the top of her head with her left hand, Erin swung her right hand, panic clenching it into a fist and lack of coordination or experience skewing her aim. Smacking her knuckles into the side of his head felt like punching an ice sculpture.

For the briefest—yet the longest—of moments, like the blink of an eye in the face of the sublime, she thought she saw L's pained smile in place of Beyond's sinister sneer.

When Erin landed what he called a lucky shot, he began to reconsider his strategy. These girls where more in sync with each other than he thought. Each watched the other's back without a second's worth of hesitation. Maybe the strength of their bond, the love they felt for each other, wasn't as easily breakable as he thought.

It seemed that Blogger had a weakness in her left hand. He'd seen her nursing it on more than one occasion. If she tried to fight him anymore, he decided he could use that to his advantage.

Rubbing the side of his face, he bit back a growl of frustration. He knew Acey had a strong will, but he didn't expect Erin's to be equally as such. This was getting tricky.

Might as well have dropped the bombshell about Acey's secret. He was sure it would break her down just enough to make her easier to deal with. And perhaps subdue Erin, as well.

B's trademark smirk dipped back onto his lips. "You rushed so quickly to save Erin…and yet…you never said a word to L about the Shinigami Eyes."

Acey's eyes dilated to a circumference Erin had never seem them before.

_**No! No, no, no!**_ She wasn't supposed to find out about _that!_ A sob tore from her throat. She couldn't even look at Erin as she collapsed to her knees in front of her. Now she would leave her for sure…

Erin didn't leave. She did little more than stumble back into the wall as she struggled to catch her breath, her fist squeezing back and forth from tight to loose and tight again. _Now_ what was this complete and utter horse manure spewing from his mouth?

"What're you babbling about? Of course she wouldn't have told L about the Eyes. How can you tell someone about something you don't even know about until—"

…

Wait.

If Acey truly had no clue about Shinigami Eyes until after the fact (that being L's death), she'd have, reasonably, nothing to have guilt over. If that were the case, why would she get so evasive when asked about it?

Unless…

"Acey?" she called to the girl on the floor, her voice muffled by the dizzying effects of adrenaline, anger, fear, grief, and now confusion.

Acey kept her face buried in her hands. She didn't look up at her. She couldn't. And she was too proud to show B the distraught vulnerability in her eyes. She was shaking, bracing herself for the blame she knew she deserved.

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly around another sob.

As much as she wanted to kneel down with her, Erin had had to settle for keeping one eye on B and the other on her. He could've used the distraction to deliver a fatal blow, if he was that cruel (which he most certainly was).

Hoping that Acey wouldn't try to lie to her this time—as though lying could help her very much now—she asked, "How exactly long have you known about the Eyes?"

"All along," replied Acey, removing her hands from her eyes, and pressing her palms flat on the floor. Tears dripped onto the hard wood floor as she opened her eyes, puffy and red. "I've known about them a-all along. Since he was L's successor at the time, L let him in on the fact that I was medium, since we would have to work together if L died. I had my suspicion about B the second he looked at me. When two people with a supernatural ability see each other, we each just know there is something otherworldly about the other, because it feels different from a normal person's gaze.

"H-he told me about his Eyes because he couldn't figure out why my life span was counting back up from my original date of death. I-I'm so sorry, Erin." Even though she had her eyes open, she still couldn't look at her. Her hair successfully veiled her eyes from B.

So, that was it, huh?

"Before the case, then, huh? Then Ace, how come you didn't tell L about the Eyes?"

"Yes, Acey. Tell her why you would withhold such invaluable information from him."

"Hey-hey-hey, nobody's talking to you!" snapped Erin, her own eyes remaining glued to B's chin (having gained that much courage to look him more in the face) as she bent at the knees to hoist Acey off the floor. How she hated the sad eyes, especially from this view.

Ordinarily, Acey had never liked people to touch her when reduced to this state, but she didn't fight to shake Erin when she picked her off the floor. She felt confused. She didn't understand why Erin was trying to comfort her, even though she was clearly upset, as well.

She wiped at her tears with her arm, but it was no use. They seemed to be falling faster than she could wipe them away.

She still refused to look up at Erin as she slumped against the wall. And she was going to ignore B as much as she could, because it degraded her that he was now able to see her face.

"Don't you think I _wanted_ to tell him? I only had a vague suspicion that Shinigami Eyes were involved in some way, but I couldn't confirm it. L was _extremely_ narrow-minded about the supernatural; he even had a hard time accepting that there was some greater power being used by Kira. He only believed in my ability as a medium because he could see it for himself. T-that's why I tried so hard to die for him in the end, before it was too late! It's still no excuse, I know…"

She trailed off, swallowing back a few more soft sobs.

"And yet you never said anything," B taunted, enjoying this immensely. "Never even made the effort."

"_**Shut up!"**_ Acey spat, smacking her fist against the wall.

Or at least, that had been the intention, had Erin not caught it in her right hand before it could make contact. The girl's knuckles jabbed into the tendons like the tips of butter knives.

"I said don't react," she hissed, her own hands spasming along with hers, her left worse than her right. Damn B. Why did he have to be so cold? "And take it easy. This is my good hand."

"Sorry, sorry!" Acey stammered, gently cupping Erin's hand in both of her own quivering ones, finally looking up at her for the first time. _I don't understand! Isn't she angry or upset with me? It almost feels like she's acting maternal, like she's trying to take care of me. _

She knew her confusion was painfully evident in her red-rimmed eyes. _Why isn't she blaming me?_

"You're a lot like me, kid. You've spent all this time regretting something you probably should've said, but didn't. But beating yourself over it is not gonna change anything. It sure won't bring him back. Hell, I _did_ tell him everything I could…"

…_some of which I _shouldn't _have said…_

"…but it still ended the same way. Do I wish he wasn't dead? Certainly. Do I wish I could see him again and make things right? Doubly so."

She made sure to throw a glare at B's crooked lips as she added, "But wishing, wallowing is the worst way to deal with it. Look at Psycho over there; he's _feeding _off of it. He wouldn't have wanted you to go on that way. I know it, and I think deep down, you do, too."

"I-I do know that," sniffed Acey, before she suddenly threw her arms around Erin, and sobbed all the harder, clinging to her. Normally, she hated it when people saw her cry, but, for the moment, she didn't anymore. She cried, this time, out of sweet, sweet relief that Erin didn't blame her.

In situations such as these, Erin might've said something along the lines of, "See, now was that so hard?" But not here. In light of everything, that'd have been the worst thing to say; this hadn't been easy for her to deal with either, after all. She settled on tucking the younger girl's matted hair back behind her ears as she inhaled through her nostrils.

Now, what to do about B? Funny, how he'd allowed them to talk for this long without making a move on the offensive.

_Funny indeed._

Sliding his hands in his pockets, B grunted, his trademark smirk back on his face. It seemed he had miscalculated. He had been defeated. Clearly, from the way Acey clung to her, he'd under-estimated Erin. Acey had made an exception for her.

Like she had for L, and _no one else_.

Fine, he supposed. He would get Acey eventually, he knew that. And maybe even Erin as well, seeing as how short the gap was from the end of her lifespan and Acey's. Probably wouldn't be the last time he saw Erin.

They would remain inseparable somehow, even if she didn't accept Near's job offer. She would always remain by Acey's side on her own.

He didn't mind waiting a little longer. He would take defeat soundly, for now.

He slowly approached the girls with his hands in the air, showing that he was done fighting. B lifted Acey's chin, bracing himself for Erin to push him away, brushing the tears out of Acey's eyes. His smirk never faltered.

"Don't cry," he said softly, a croon that rattled Erin's spine like a wind chime. "By the way, you are fair game now, love, and so is Erin now, for that matter. I'll take you out eventually, and perhaps her, too. I assume you'll be prepared for that."

Acey broke B's hold on her jaw, defiantly looking up at him. "Don't hold your breath, and don't count on that happening anytime soon, B," she spat stubbornly.

B turned to leave them, waving at Erin over his shoulder, without looking back at her. "See ya. This won't be the last time you see me. I do hope you don't get caught in the crossfire, Erin, though you probably will." He said, before he disappeared from the room. Just flat-out vanished. Like a candle flame in the wind.

…

_Whaaat? _

"H-hey, wait a minute! Where're _you _going?" demanded Erin when she'd found her voice again. "I thought you—ugh. What the hell is _wrong_ with that kid?" Honestly! He's hell-bent on slitting their throats one minute, then the next, he just _walks out_ on them when the opportunity all but stares him in his creepy mug?

Hopelessly baffled when she should've been relieved, she looked to Acey for an answer, whose tears had begun to form dry, crusty streaks down her cheeks.

A bitter amusement tinged Acey's laugh. "He thinks it'll make me easier to kill. He likes to take his time with killing. That's not going to happen, though. L trained me to fight no matter what, and never lose, even if I have to kill to do so, and I have. I'm going to die on my own accord. Not his."

She _wasn't_ a murderer, though.

Around that time, the cavalry showed up, fashionably late for the battle. Jaime and A burst through the door first. Mello and Matt quietly arrived a few moments later, with Kikuri probably on her way to get Near.

"M'lady! What happened here?" exclaimed Jaime before glancing at Erin. "Lady Erin, what happened here? B was here, I know it." He could see the proof of their distress scrawled all over their faces.

"Oh, gee. Took you guys long enough," Erin mumbled, not quite intending to sound as acerbic as she might have. Still, it would've helped if they had arrived sooner, especially since she'd been under the impression that they were on top of things around here.

Acey whirled around to meet Jaime. "Do you have _any_ idea what could've happened here? When I tell you to do something, I expect you to obey me! You left Erin alone!"

Jaime recoiled, flinching. "M-m'lady, please forgive my impudence!" He swept his body down in a deep, apologetic bow.

"While Erin is with me, she is your ward, too. Do you understand me? Now, I want you to all get out!" she yelled, pointing to the door. "I want to speak her in private, so get out now!"

"But not too far, please," added Erin meekly.

Jaime and A especially made haste to leave the room. The Miss was furious, and it was best to not disobey her now. Matt followed Mello, who rolled his eyes before leaving.

"Whatever," Mello said, shrugging. "I bought both of you up some dinner, since you haven't eaten yet. It's in my room whenever you want it."

"Thanks, Mello."

Acey didn't say a word until Mello closed the door behind him, and after Erin commented, "You should work on that, yelling at people when you need to be alone. You'll push them further away than you want them to be if you do that. I should know."

She looked up at Erin, sighing with exhaustion. "Tomorrow, I'm going to tell Near you aren't going to take the job. I have a place where I can have some down-time when I go to Italy, and help them out. You can come with me too, and you would have full protection, and besides, B won't follow us there. But, you can't work with me in the field. Because I do kill people."

See Erin blanch a little at the word "kill" made her blanch in turn.

She heaved out a heavy sigh, rubbing her sore swollen eyes. "But after that, I'm going to send you home. You can't get any more involved. I can't allow you to. Once my aura fades from your skin, you won't be able to see spirits anymore, and B will lose interest in you. It's not any fun for him if you can't see him, so he'll focus on trying to kill me only."

At this point, it hurt just that much more just to blink for either of them. Had a decision just been made for her without having a final say?

Then again, this was L's kin she was dealing with. Having no say wasn't a very new concept to her. "H-huh? What're you saying, Ace?" To say the least, she didn't like the way how Acey sounded almost comfortable with the prospect of the ghost of a psychotic lunatic hunt her down day and night until she died, by his hand or otherwise.

"You'll always be welcome to some see me here, and anywhere else. Just call me and I'll pay for everything. But only as spectator, but other than that, I can't allow you to get any more involved with me, and Wammy's."

Honestly, she wanted to keep Erin by her side forever. But she couldn't be _selfish, _anymore.

She flashed a small smile up at Erin. "But, promise you'll still be my friend, and come to my wedding. If something ever happens to me, I'll make Jaime available to you. He'll protect you with his all, like he does for me."

She sounded more like L than she'd often realize. With this in mind, she hoped her words didn't sound too cold.

They didn't. That didn't dam back the fresh hot batch of salt and lysozyme trickling down Erin's chin, though. For a minute there, it'd sounded as though L were speaking directly to her. Through his medium.

She didn't want to face the idea of having Acey face spirits such as Beyond Birthday on her own, but when it all boiled down to it, all she could give her was her friendship. They wouldn't have wanted her on their team, anyway. She would be more of a liability than an asset, being too soft, too gullible, too clumsy…

How would Acey be able to negotiate with Near on that matter? Erin couldn't find it in her to ponder over it, however. Her friendship was all she could give…and for the moment, she was fine with that. Or at least, as fine as she could be.

Now it was her turn to let go. With her left hand shaking behind Acey's head, she pressed her against her shoulder as she leaned over her, squeezing her a little tighter than she'd meant to. Like she were hugging her _two _friends at once.

"A week and forever. A week and forever…"

She almost was unaware of how she'd begun hiccupping, "I'm sorry…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

She had no other way to say it.

Acey's eyes widened when Erin pulled her against her shoulder. For some reason, a fresh batch of tears welled and trickled down her own face, as she buried her face in her shoulder. "H-hey, it doesn't have to be forever. If you want to take the job, and stay by my side, I'd really love that, and would be all right with it, eventually. I-I don't want to do what L did to you. It's your choice, though…

"A-at least spend some time with me in Italy. We could use some real down-time…"

"Don't worry about it. I meant a week and forever as in how long we'll be friends," Erin managed to eke out when she could catch an unbroken breath. "Italy does sound nice…b-but do you gotta be over there right away? I-it won't look good if I ran off again so soon. My folks could get suspicious…hell, when I do come back, they're probably gonna want proof that I actually went to the museum for that 'story.'"

Acey clung to Erin, fisting her jacket in her tiny hand. "No, I don't have to get there right away, you can stay the rest of the week." She looked up at Erin imploringly, sobbing softly between soft pants, "_Please!_ I'll even talk to your parents, if you want. And I'll pay for everything. Y-you'll love the girls, too, I promise. Please…"

_Don't leave me so soon._

"I did tell them I was doing this story with a girl named Amie. It would help if I had someone to back me up. Sorry if the name sounds stupid; I was sorta…you know, in a pinch."

To be honest, Erin didn't feel like talking anymore for the moment. She was tired, tired and raw and confused, and certain that she wasn't the only one. As much as she didn't like silence, all she wanted to do right now was breathe. Kneel here with Acey and savor the fact that they had been spared (for whatever reason), cry until her tears evaporated into that calm stillness that rewarded one after the storm.

Acey understood this, feeling the same way.

"T-thank you. I'll back you up in any way I know how. I promise."

The girls stayed cuddled against each other for what were minutes longer though felt like hours to them both, Erin rubbing Acey's back as they cried themselves out before stumbling back to Acey's room, weary arms looped around their shoulders for support, to pass out for the night.


	14. 04: 1

_**Disclaimer! **_**All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, Ken'ichi Kanemaki's **_**Hell Girl. **_**There shall also be a slight crossover and references to Yu Aida's **_**Gunslinger Girl**_**. **

_**04-1**_

That night, the girls had collapsed into the same bed, still clinging to one another out of exhaustion and the need for solace in one another's company, not waking until late in the following afternoon. Wicked had curled up in a purring ball, asleep at the top corner of Acey's pillow.

Jaime diligently watched over them, never once leaving their side. Mello, Matt, A, Kikuri and even Roger—who was unaware of what had happened with B—had looked in on them. Jaime had quietly ushered each and every one of them out as quickly as they'd come, insisting that the lady of his unrequited affections (which he was _totally_ fine with, as per that pinky promise he'd made with her) and Mistress Acey needed their rest.

He'd only let Near stay, who spent most of the morning seated on the hardwood floor, building a house out of tarot cards, leaving Jaime with orders to bring them to his room when they woke.

It was around five when Acey stirred. Moaning softly, she opened her eyes, smiling sleepily when she saw the house of cards Near left on the floor. "Near's been here," she murmured, kissing Erin gently on the forehead before she got out of bed.

"Good-afternoon, m'lady," Jaime greeted as Acey stretched. "Sir Near is waiting for you both, whenever you are ready."

Erin swam up the surface of consciousness just moments later, the first thing to spark her focus being a rather large blue and blue blotch peeking from underneath Acey's shirt when it rode up along with her stretching.

"Hmm…wh-what's that?" she slurred. "Issat a bruise?"

Her assessment couldn't have been more correct. B had left Acey the ugliest parting gift on her side, where he had kicked her. Her body felt sore with every movement, and it hurt to breathe. She was _definitely_ stopping in at the hospital wing for some codeine for it, later.

Afraid to do such as poke it, Erin tossed lethargically about until she could prop herself into a sitting position. Funky as she felt from having slept in her clothes and tears, some things mattered more in a given situation than others. In this case, she was far more concerned about Acey's signs of distress than her transient own. "Oh no, Ace. We're checking that thing out A-SAP. We need to make sure you haven't ruptured something important."

While this was unlikely, or else Acey would've been suffering far worse than she was now, Erin thought it best to err on the side of caution. It terrified her, to learn the greater extent of injury that the dead could inflict on the living. Emotional and mental, she had been aware of for some time, but not until she and Acey had met had she considered the physical aspect.

…

"Presenting the Ladies Erin and Acey," announced Jaime once they'd gotten to Near's room later that evening, bowing before motioning to the bedroom door.

Near looked up at them, putting down the toy robots he'd been occupying himself with, and motioned for Acey to come to him. When she knelt down next to him, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her forward, rolling her onto her back, though taking great care to remain gentle so as not to upset Erin. Too much.

Based on his observations of the time she'd been here, and what Kikuri had told him, Near had been able to deduce that she had become extremely protective of her.

With his hands and knees braced on either side of her, Near intertwined the fingers on one of his hands with hers, stroking her jaw with the other before he leaned down to kiss her. He gently pushed her back down when she leaned up to accept it. A soft kiss at first, it deepened for only a moment before he bit her lower lip, and pulled away. She gazed up at him, breathless.

Which, of course, prompted Erin to look away with an exasperated, "Aw, jeez, _guys._ Take it easy, will ya?"

"Kikuri told me what happened," said Near, in a deadpan tone that refused to let Erin in on how upset he might've been about the incident, or _if_ he were upset. "I wish you had confided in me about your feelings earlier. I would neither blame you nor be angry with you."

He hoped she felt that she could confide in him about anything, as he would her. She was going to be his wife in a few years, after all.

Pecking her lips once more, he rolled off of Acey to gaze at Erin. "You have my gratitude for taking care of her when I could not."

"Oh, uh, don't mention it," she answered, having difficulty looking him in the eye, either because of that display or because she was still a bit hung up on wailing her heart out over someone she thought was someone else. "W-we're intending to keep things real between us, from now on. Aren't we, Ace?"

Lifting herself up onto her elbows, Acey nodded. "Yep, we've pledged to each other as friends, and there will be _no_ secrets between us," she said, leaning her back up against the wall for support, and inhaling deeply (and wincing in the process).

"We came here to talk to you about some things, Near. She's going to Italy with us, and will be staying with me at the Agency. We are leaving on the first flight out tomorrow morning back to New York, where I'm going to talk to her parents."

"After we go to the museum."

She glanced at Erin. "And Erin would like to speak with you about what she decided about your offer."

And with that, she let Erin have the floor. Near gazed intensely up at her as he waited for her to speak.

Swallowing, she tried to keep her wrist-wringing to a minimum. She couldn't remember her left hand ever getting this stiff before this point. "Near, I know I must've said this maybe fifteen times already, but first I wanna let you know that I am honored that you'd ever consider offering me a job. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm cut out to work underneath you. There are too many cons for the pros to outshine.

"I get it if you want to keep tabs on me, but I just can't formally work with you."

For some reason, all this talk about work made her think back to the time L had had her disguise herself as a model as part of the plan to rescue Matsuda, a member of the task force. It was a wonder, even today, how she hadn't blown their cover.

Jaime, needless to say, was a little crushed. He'd _so wanted_ Lady Erin to take the job so he could be with her always. No one noticed this, of course.

"Very well, then," said Near, none too upset as he resumed playing with his robots. "However, providing you don't tell anyone what you are doing, where you are going and why, you are more than welcome at Wammy's anytime you wish to come. You are also free to come on sight during cases, as a spectator only, to spend time with Acey. You would be provided with an alias at all times, and all expenses will be paid for by us, of course."

"Wow, you trust me that much?"

_D'oh! _

"W-wait, I mean, ah, thank you, Near! I don't think that's gonna happen too often, but thank you! I could give you guys, you know, moral support and all that."

Near grunted. Did she _seriously_ just say that? He thought it was blatantly obvious why he had extended these high privileges to her.

"All right then, I'll be departing for Italy on the first flight out, tonight. You two can spend the rest of your week together in leisure; just contact me when you get to the Social Welfare Agency," he deadpanned, picking up his toy robots, like he was getting ready to leave _that very minute._

Erin swore that steam poured from out of her ears, by that point. What busybodies! Didn't these guys ever take a break? L hardly ever took breaks himself, not by his own will, anyway. She grinned sheepishly back at them both.

What _was_ this Agency they were talking about, anyway? Some kind of humanitarian group? Erin was almost too afraid to ask.

"By the way, Acey, don't kill anybody if it can be helped. Not the one I'm trying to catch at least. You _know_ that's not how we do things," Near added casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world that occurred every day.

Erin couldn't help but twitch at her right eye. She'd experienced more than her fair share of murder by this point, as far as she was concerned.

Acey laughed, somewhat, grinning brightly. "Of course, I'll try not to. I love you." She closed her eyes, smiling like she was recalling something—or rather, someone—fond.

"_Don't kill anyone if you can help it, Acey of Spades. Not the Padania terrorist I'm trying to catch, at least. You may kill the assassin in any way you see fit." _

How she missed him so!

"You know I do, too," said Near, calling Acey back to the present. He never directly verbalized his feelings, but he had no need to. He had other means to do that job, such as through action.

"Oh yeah!" she exclaimed, lacing an arm around Erin's shoulder as they began to leave Near's room. "The Social Welfare Agency is a covert government circle that does charity work as a cover, but it's actually an Agency that takes in people like me and trains them to be assassins. To kill without a hint of hesitation and remorse."

Erin responded to this in the most intelligent way she could: "Uh…what? First you're a detective, then a medium, now you're a cold-blooded assassin? Whoa, slow down there, kid! I'm not used to these things, you know! Even if you guys are." For a sweetheart, Acey could be a bit inconsiderate of her company. But then, Erin couldn't say that she didn't used to be the same way.

"The Agency had their eye on me, but L got to me first. However, he had his own hand in the Agency, so he lent me to them, since I have the same training. Me and L were technically a Fratello when he sent me to work with the girls at the Agency. That's where we are going, 'kay? I'll probably do some field work while we're there, but I'll mostly be doing target practice with them."

She grinned again at Erin, before she took her hand. When they got to her room, she suddenly stopped outside her door. Turning to Erin, she flung her arms around her, squeezing a bewildered grunt out of the older girl. "I-I'm so glad you are okay. I don't know what I would've done if something happened to you before I could get to you, and you died because of me," she whispered fiercely before she broke the embrace.

This girl _couldn't _be an assassin. Assassins didn't get so attached to people to the point where they'd squeeze them until they were turning purple. Assassins didn't make her want to cry because they so small and fragile in spite of the tough act they put up and reminded her so much of herself and her old frenemy.

Cupping both sides of Erin's face, she pressed her lips to hers in a soft, platonic kiss for a moment. It ended just as fast as it had come, like the blink of an eye.

Bright red quickly replaced the purple of circulation deficiency. Aside from her mother, grandmother and aunts, Erin had never been kissed by another girl. Friendly as it was, the mere spontaneity of the act left her in a slight daze, given everything that they had discussed.

"D-don't sweat it too much. I'm here, now, and so are you."

…

"Are you sure it's okay for you to let me in on this Agency? I'm still trying to get over the fact that your guy trusts me. Or at least, that's what I inferred. Besides, what if these guys come after us?"

Acey opened her bedroom door, and went inside, stepping aside so Erin could come in. "Oh, yes, it's perfectly safe. The Agency has nothing to do with L, Wammy's, or the system here. It's just a place L lent me to, and helped out because they shared a common interest, and I have similar training to assist them. That's all."

"If you say so."

Again, the girls shared a bed, each sitting on either side, when something else occurred to Erin. Though she had a fairly good idea of what the answer might've been, in light of everything that had happened, she figured that it wouldn't hurt to ask. They were friends, after all.

"…So, by the sounds of it, you've known these guys for awhile. Have you really killed people, before? If you have, do you see their ghosts? Do you really feel remorseless when you do it? I mean, if it comes to a situation where it's either you or the other guy, I get that you'd want it to be you, but…God, I can't imagine what that must be like."

Reaching over, Acey gently cupped Erin's twitching, bad hand and gently rubbed it against her cheek in a soothing manner, before she spoke. "Yes. Yes, I have killed people, before. I killed them because L asked me to, and I always listened to what he said, without hesitation. My one and only goal was to please him, and make him proud of me, _always_."

…

This didn't help, needless to say, to clean up the image she had always had of the man. Maybe there was more to it than what Acey was telling her? Surely L wouldn't stoop to the same actions Light had taken in order to change the world?

The way Acey reminisced on her late mentor…made Erin think about Misa. Misa had possessed the same strong, unwavering, terrible devotion to Light.

"But, I haven't lost my humanity. I cry the same, bleed the same, hurt the same, laugh the same, breathe the same as everybody else. Before L liberated me, it was always either fight hard to survive, or give up and be killed. Sometimes, I wish I could forget all about my past before L, and I still get really scared that all of this was just a dream and I would wake up back in my old life."

Her lower lip quivered as she squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing back tears, looking as if she were recalling memories that she so longed to forget.

Her voice dipped into a nearly inaudible whisper: "I'm so very terrified that I'm going to be completely and utterly alone, again. And, it's a terrible feeling that I never want to feel again. I got _so angry_ at L before he died, telling him that I hated him for just leaving me alone, again, and that I loved him so much for what he made me, that he _never_ hurt me as much as he thought he did. H-he saved me, gave me the precious gifts of a new name, a new life, and I wouldn't trade what he gave me now for anything else in the world. I-I miss him, Erin, _so_ much that I'm dying inside…"

She trailed off, sniffling as she choked back soft, quiet sobs.

"I just don't want to be alone again. _Never again._"

…

If there was anything at all about this that Erin could make a worthwhile reply to, this would be it. She reached for her so as to rub at the top of her head, while her other hand broke out of Acey's so as to wrap an arm around her neck.

"I know what you mean. I left him with that same sentiment, and I'm not sure what to do to make it right, anymore, if there even is a way. But…you don't have to be alone, again. You still have Near, and Matt and Mello, and Wicked and Jaime and A, _maybe _Kikuri…and I'm still here."

She refused to count Beyond Birthday into the group, for he was a great mess of things, but certainly not friend-material. Not by her definition, at least.

A few tears trickled from Acey's eyes as she looked over at her companion. Flashing her a somewhat wobbly smile, she sniffled and laughed somewhat, brushing away her tears with her arm. "I'm sorry, babe, I just needed to get all that out. I've been dealing with it for a while. Do you want to go get a late dinner before laying down, and going to bed early?" she asked, resting her head on Erin's shoulder.

"I would like that very much," said Erin, intending to savor the little pleasures of life that much more after these past few insane days. After all, for all of his faults, it was what L would've wanted her to do. For both of them to do.

"'Kay, let's go then." Standing up, Acey offered Erin her hand to help her up. Putting her hand through Erin's good hand, they walked down to the cafeteria together.

…

It seemed as if their gratitude for life had sharpened every one of their senses. From the aroma of a welcoming home-cooked meal, to the savory texture of meat as it melted in their mouths, to the shine of the hardwood floor, to the warmth of Wicked's black fur as the girls took turns petting him when they had settled into bed.

"I sure miss Lawliet," muttered Erin, trailing her fingertips over Wicked's head until they stopped to gently scratch behind the base of his velvety ears, earning a contented string of purring from the animal. "My cat, I mean."

She couldn't deny also missing his namesake, though, had one called her out on it.

Wicked completely hammed up every single shred of attention the girls gave him, arching his shiny back high up against their fingers.

"It's like, even though he likes to hide during the day, he's got this thing where he crawls into bed when I'm falling asleep at night to tickle my nose or my feet or something, basically keeping me up while he looks for a good spot," she recalled, her mind drifting back to the small black mass of fur that shared her bed at home. "And I gotta be careful so I don't accidentally kick him or roll over him or, you know…I sure hope he hasn't been giving Mom and Dad too much of a hassle."

She missed her whole family, but assumed that it wouldn't be wise or necessary to bring that up to someone from Acey's background.

Acey giggled, smiling fondly at the mention of the namesake of the man she so loved and adored. "He sounds like a real piece of work. I can't wait to meet him, and I can't wait for Wicked to meet him, either, for that matter.

"Just look at mine. He has to go _everywhere_ with me when I travel around the world for cases. He hates to be left here alone with the boys. And he has to sleep under the covers in my bed with me, or on the top corner of my pillow, and sometimes, he has to have the _whole_ pillow. My greedy widdle kitty, how I wuv you so," she cooed.

It _was_ probably best for Erin not to bring up her parents around Acey. She wouldn't know what to say. Like many Wammy's students, she didn't even know what it meant to have loving parents—until Watari, of course. Needless to say though, she was excited to observe a stable, unbroken home life for the first time.

"We all are, over at my place, to varying degrees. Pieces of work, I mean."

Acey squeezed Erin's good hand, flashing her one of her bright smiles, genuinely laughing. Erin seemed to be one of the rare few that could truly make her smile laugh. "Then that makes us two peas in a pod."

"I'm a little nervous about when they meet you, though…because, well, they're touchers and everything." She didn't even want to think what would happen if her mother or father did so much as shake her hand, and started seeing ghosts in every nook and cranny of the house. What a disaster!

For that matter…

"Ace, if I touched somebody else while I still had some of your—what d'ya call it—_aura, _would they start seeing ghosts, too?"

She tapped her lower lip thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes and looking away in a classic look of contemplation, very much like her mentor. "No, they won't be able to see Jaime, or any other ghost if you touch them. But if they brush their skin against mine, for even the smallest second, they _will_ be able to see them. So, it's _absolutely imperative_ that they don't touch me, at all costs." She frowned, shuddering at the very thought of that happening.

A strange reminiscing sadness settled at the pit of Erin's stomach from watching Acey's face. "I…could tell them that you have a condition. I don't wanna make you seem like an outcast or anything, but that's the only thing I can think of to keep them away. Or maybe that you just don't like touching. Hmm…"

"You technically wouldn't be lying, if you said either."

…

"_He's_ not gonna follow us back, is he? I _really_ don't want to bring him back to my folks."

Acey shook her head, her hair tossing back and forth. "No, he won't follow us, I guarantee it. Since your folks can't see him, he'll have absolutely _no_ interest in them."

What kind of sick lunatic would want their victims to see them so he could kill them, anyway? The kind that wanted to make themselves the last thing they ever saw, apparently. It made Erin ill to think about it; had B carried out his intent to kill them, L would've been the last thing she'd ever seen. No, not even him. An _impersonation. _

"Can you help me pack, tonight? So that we can just go straight to the airport to catch our flight bound for Italy. I already booked our flight to LaGuardia Airport afterwards."

"Uh, sure. All you had to do was ask. By the way, that sure was sweet of Matt to go out of his way to the museum to do that research for me on the Parthenon sculptures. Funny thing, I don't recall even telling him about that."

Acey covered her mouth with her hand, laughing with soft, genuine amusement. "Oh, I have a feeling—no, I know Jaime told him. He must've. I was wondering where he disappeared to when we woke up this morning."

Erin sighed. "I hope he didn't do anything _too_ illegal while he was at it." She meant no offense, but L had had a habit of disregarding the law and basic ethical values to get what he'd wanted. His students weren't very much different, given her observations of them.

"Actually, Jaime disapproves of my doing anything illegal to get what I want," laughed Acey, her eyes sparkling with mischief Erin probably didn't want to know about. L's willingness to do absolutely anything to get what he wanted, no matter what the cost, had certainly rubbed off on her. "Says it's not very ladylike."

"I don't know too much about being a lady, but I can't say that isn't true."

…

Only then, did she catch on to the innuendo, and her ears burned accordingly. Holding up a finger asking for pardon, she rolled over so she would face away from both Acey and Wicked, to wait out the heat consuming her face.

On the other end of the spectrum, Erin supposed that she might have been a bit too prudish for her own good sometimes. Just a bit.

Taking care not to flop down too hard on her bruised side, Acey cuddled up behind Erin, prompting Wicked to scuttle out of the way, and put an arm around her waist. "Aww, don't get all shy on my account. What'cha embarrassed about, huh?" she asked, nuzzling Erin's neck.

Oh, dear. Erin liked to think of herself as an openly affectionate person, but she couldn't deny that L and his crew had odd ways of expressing fondness for the few they chose to get close to.

"Uh, well, I…it's nothing. Forget it, I'm just being my old prudish self," she stammered, twiddling her thumbs in front of her. This position was starting to make her think back to the few times she and L had curled up like this (though the first time had been nonconsensual).

Thinking about that, in turn, aroused the mild churn of guilt in her stomach. Sometimes she wished she wouldn't have called him so many names—even when he'd deserved them—and generally had treated him just a little better than she did.

_But there's nothing I can do to change that. All I have to go from is here and now. _

Sensing Erin's discomfort, Acey rolled over onto her back. She knew how it felt to shy away from human contact. For the longest time, she wouldn't let people touch her. Until L.

"I couldn't even begin to imagine how much blood he got all over his shirt." She placed her hand over her eyes. "I was barely conscious, but I felt him pick me up out of the snow. And I suddenly felt safe, for the first time in my life…"

She tipped her head to look at Erin's back. "Tell me, do they look ugly? My scars, I mean. Be honest, please."

"Your scars?" parroted Erin, whose queasiness had become heavier at the mentioning of blood. "I wouldn't let them define you. I consider scars as physical reminders of where you've been, what you've done, who you've run with…wait. I guess then they kinda _would _define who you are, huh? For your mugshot and stuff—_d'oh! _Crap, I try to say something inspirational, and I fail at it."

Like that was anything new.

Erin pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to squeeze out the ache swelling in her head. "I-I guess what I'm trying to say is that your scars help to define you, but they shouldn't be the _only_ thing. Like, just 'cause they're…uh, not pretty, doesn't mean that the girl who has them isn't pretty, either."

For a moment, Acey had to ask herself if she really deserved to have Erin as a friend. "Thank you," she whispered, before she slid off the bed, and picked up the black bag that Jaime had fished out of her closet so she could pack for Italy.

"Uh, um, should I—you know, wear something nice when we go see your parents? You'll have to bear with me; I've never done something like this before," she admitted with a bashful smile and a fidget of her hands.

Having regained her bearings for the time being, Erin sat up in bed. "Ah, well, my folks are good people, generally open-minded, but I think you'd win them over quicker and easier if you dressed in something nice, especially when it comes to my mom. Something long-sleeved but light. I mean, l-like I said, your scars don't ruin your looks, but…uhm, well, my folks just aren't used to seeing stuff like that on co-workers."

She found it so difficult to explain the ways of her world without sounding too much like a jerk. In this world, the one L and company came from, normal was strange, strange was normal, and sometimes the line between them was so blurred and marred beyond recognition that it virtually didn't exist.

"Right, something long-sleeved. Gotcha." Acey shot into her closet a determined look before she started fishing. "I don't think I own any long-sleeved shirts, per se, but I do have a lot of jackets. Well, most of them are Matt's or Mello's, but there is one from…oh."

Speak of the devil. She extracted a black jacket that was about three or four sizes too big for her. Unfolding it, she pressed it against her cheeks and inhaled.

Her favorite jacket.

Three faint scents filtered into her nostrils like potpourri from the past.

_Sugar. L must've worn this at some point, though it's hard to believe._

_Strawberry jam. This was probably B's, and he loaned it L for some reason. Or he left it for L because he is creepy like that._

She wrinkled her nose at the third scent.

_Blood. Blood from that night._

"I think I'll wear this one, 'cause it's my favorite," she said, turning around to show it to Erin. "The sleeves are definitely long enough to cover me up."

"Wow, Ace, are you sure? That looks kind of big on you," Erin commented lamely. That jacket looked like the monster she used to confuse with the clothes in her closet as a little girl, in the middle of swallowing the younger girl whole, such was its size. At Wammy's, the kids' clothes were too tight or too loose, too big or too small. It vaguely made her want to take them all out shopping for something just right, had she the money, time and energy.

Then again, maybe those clothes gave them comfort, security, personal identity? One couldn't put a price tag on any of these. She would know this very well. She wore her own source of comfort on her head almost all the time.

It was sad business to lose yourself in a world where your legal identity was terminated for safety's sake.

Wicked hopped down from the pillow he'd been curled up on and rubbed his head against Erin's elbow. Acey had been about to reply when a soft knock cut her off. Mello poked his head a second later.

"Hey, Roger told me he wanted to see you later, Ace," he announced, sucking on a piece of chocolate lazily.

"What for?" She reached up to snatch the chocolate bar from him. She held it out of his reach, biting off her own piece.

Mello shrugged. "How should I know? I told him not to waste his time, but he insisted. Maybe it's about Kikuri? I saw the little twerp skipping around the halls like she was proud of something earlier." He reached his chocolate again, only to have Acey hold it out of his reach, smirking playfully.

The struggle resembled the way a brother and sister would fight over something. Erin recognized this picture all too well. She and her own brother fell into it often, and still did, when the opportunity emerged.

Matt sighed from his place in the doorway, though he thought it was funny. Shaking his head, he glanced over at Erin. "They do this all the time. Sometimes it spills out into the hallway, and gets them in trouble. You'd be surprised how far they could get, but once they get outside, it's over because Acey can't run for shit, or rather she doesn't want to."

"Hey, I could beat both of you in a race if I tried," Acey retorted as she stood up, hopping nimbly a few steps backward, still playing keep-away.

Erin picked that moment, for reasons not quite clear even to her, to jump up and gather the three of them in as much of a hug as her arms could wrap around them. The chocolate bar fell from Acey's startled hands and thumped to the floor, a sizable chunk snapping off on impact.

"My chocolate!" Mello exclaimed in horror.

Acey could've easily parried Erin, but was thrown off by the sudden gesture. Not a lot of people would willingly hug her, from out of the blue, no less. Her body went slack. She was glad she didn't react out of reflex, lest she unintentionally hurt her.

"My, my, this is quite the hug. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Winking, she grinned at her. It reminded her of the way she would hug L after they fought, like it was some form of revenge or punishment for pissing her off, or making her cry.

Once she gathered enough sense to respond, she stuttered, "I-I don't know. I just feel a little overwhelmed right now, I guess. I feel like hugging someone, or three." Mello and Matt's growing squirms for escape warned her to release them as soon as possible, but something kept her arms locked around them.

Gritting his teeth, Mello glanced around, looking a way out of this. L had always told him to calm down, and analyze the situation from every angle. He saw two ways out: knock Erin off-balance, or push Acey backwards to break this ridiculous hug.

_Acey will try to tear my head off if I pushed Erin and she got hurt._

"Sorry Ace, but you are going down," he grumbled before he arm-barred Acey in the chest, causing her to fall backwards onto the bed. Erin, in the meantime, was sent stumbling backwards on her heels.

Success! Or, it _would've been_ successful, had Matt not fallen onto him, making Mello face-plant right into the floor.

Acey burst out into laughter. "Oh, that was hilarious!"

Matt smirked before he grabbed the flare on the bottom of Acey's jeans to haul her off the bed and onto the floor, into Matt's lap. In his opinion, it wasn't a bad position to be in. "See, I avenged you, Mells."

"It would be great if both of you weren't sitting on top of me!"

At that moment, Jaime appeared, looking scandalized. "Unhand her, this instant! Lady Acey is practically a kept woman now!"

About that time, Wicked, who had retreated under the bed to avoid being squashed in all this racket, began producing a sharp, ominous string of hissing. Before anyone could act to intervene, he fell onto the boys like a flicker of a shadow, and with the same breakneck speed, branded Mello's face with a set of throbbing red claw-marks and Matt's wrist with tiny inflamed tooth-prints.

"Ah, fucking cat!"

Acey scrambled off of Matt to scoop up Wicked as Mello struck out at him. "Hey Wicked, it's okay, baby! They aren't hurting me at all. See?" she said soothingly, cuddling her cat close to her.

Wicked, who'd calmed down the second he heard his owner's voice, spat one more threatening hiss at the boys, clearly stating that they would have to answer to him if they rough-housed with Acey that way again. When she sat down on the bed, he took up a place in her lap, placing himself in between her and the boys as a barrier, narrowing his eyes in a malevolent glare.

She turned to Erin. "Uh, I would tell you to take a look at their scratches, but he might get upset again."

"Actually, I think he _bit_ me," said Matt with a wince, nursing the affected hand in the other.

"Uh, don't worry, guys! I'll get you to the bathroom, out of here," stammered Erin, now a bit wary of so much as touching Mello due to the prickly look on his face. She began herding them out of the room with as much haste as she could muster in her state. "Be right back, Ace! You, um, better see what Roger wants, I guess."

"All right, see you in a bit." Acey blew Erin a kiss as she closed the door behind her. Setting Wicked down on the bed next to her, she stood up and retrieved her jacket. Shrugging it on, she picked Wicked back up, whereupon said cat allowed her to bury her face in the soft black fur of his neck.

"I'm tired, Wicked," she whispered. A single tear trickled from her left eye onto his fur.

_Why didn't you take me with you, L? You know I would've followed you anywhere, even if it was into Hell itself. I don't like this, having to trust other people without you here._

_Is it okay for me to be scared sometimes?_

_If I ever found a way into Mu, would you let me stay with you?_

…

_If I told Erin my real name, would you disapprove?_

…

"You wanted something, Roger?"

Roger cringed when he saw Wicked in Acey's arms, the cat proceeding to stare him down in his patented glare that read him as a block between her and Roger. If he so much as twitched a finger of wrong towards Acey, he would potentially lose that finger. His stare never faltered as Acey set him down in one of the chairs in his office.

Roger cleared his throat. "Yes. You've received your payment for the Dragonfly case. You can reroute it to your usual account." He slid a folded piece of paper with the routing numbers written on it, since she couldn't ever remember them. And he preferred not to touch her.

"Thank you. Is that all, Roger? I'm a very busy girl, you know," she replied, pocketing the slip of paper.

Taking off his glasses, Roger sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. Such impudence. She was just like L. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why L had invested so much time in her.

Her power went beyond human comprehension, after all. Well, so had been L's.

"Actually, there is something else…"

Acey's eyes widened when she heard his next words, her reflexes acting just before her mind could clearly process them. She picked up Wicked, and scrambled from his office before the tears came.

Roger's departing words shook her to her very core.

…

"So, you're going to the Agency with Ace, huh?" said Matt, trying to make conversation with Erin as she tended to his and Mello's feline-inflicted injuries. "If you get to see her work, or even during target practice, you are in for a real treat."

"Oh yeah? I think I'll take your word for it," said Erin, trying not to seem too squeamish at the mentioning of "target practice." These kids sure knew how to keep busy. Handling the clotting, inflamed wounds, however, did nothing to achieve this. Assuming that Wicked was clean and up-to-date with his shots, she'd resolved to disinfect Matt's bite before patching it with gauze.

Now it was Mello's turn. Her hands shaking as she held up the bottle of antiseptic to his cheek in one and cotton in the other, she said, "Heads up, Mello, this might hurt a little. Gotta clean it so it doesn't get infected."

"You think I don't already know that?" he scoffed. "That's Microbiology 101. Just get on with it. Or I can do it myself."

Erin thought about apologizing, she hadn't meant to sound as though she were talking down to him, but decided that that would've only helped to worsen things. How easy it was for someone like her to forget that she was among geniuses. Geniuses who weren't afraid to let you know they were geniuses, and that you were an unworthy moron.

L would act that way with the members of the task force all the time. But instead of mild condescension masked by politeness, like his predecessor, Mello would grab one by their scalp and rub their face into it.

Biting her lower lip, she shot his throbbing scratch with a light, strong-smelling spray, earning barely so much as a wince from Mello's eye before dabbing his scratch with the cotton as gently as she could.

"So…uh, I wonder what Roger wanted to tell Acey?" she wondered aloud, half in an attempt of her own to lighten the tension saturating the bathroom, and half because of her habit of broadcasting her thoughts.

"Sir Mello, I must ask that you not speak so out of turn to Lady Erin," chided Jaime, announcing his presence before dipping his body into a graceful bow in the doorway of the bathroom. "Lady Erin, I humbly request that you tend to Lady Acey. She's in a great mount of distress, and she only wishes to see you."

Her guts had been knotted up so many times since her arrival that she wondered why they hadn't ruptured yet. This time, it felt as though her stomach had been placed in a vise. Oh, no. What'd happened, this time?

"Uh…okay, sure." Erin pressed a bandage over Mello's cheek. "Just leave that alone, and you guys should be right as rain in no time."

Mello answered her with a noncommittal grunt, while Matt nodded in mild gratitude as she hurried out with Jaime trailing beside her. "What's wrong now?" she asked him, her anxiety drawing out the length of her stride and boosting its pace.

Jaime brow was knitted tightly with concern. "When I asked her what was wrong, she ordered me not to look at her, and to go and get you. Judging from her tone, it sounded like you would be the only one that would understand. M'lady hates showing vulnerability of any kind, to anyone. Sir L made her that way. However, it seems she has grown comfortable showing it around you. I think Roger said something that upset her."

So Erin had made her softer? She wasn't sure whether this was a _totally _good thing or not, given the medium's occupation. Nor did she have the time to contemplate it.

What could Wammy's caretaker have possibly said to have upset her?

"Oh boy. Is she back in her room?"

Jaime answered with a nod, and before long, Erin was tapping her already balled fist against the door. "Ace?"

"Yes, coming." Her voice was muffled on the other side of the door. A moment later, she opened the door a crack and peeked through.

"Ah, hey," she greeted when she saw it was Erin, her voice cracking as she opened the door all the way and stepped aside. Her eyeliner had bled under her eyes, smeared in black tracks down her cheeks.

For the shortest of seconds, it reminded Erin of L's indelible insomnia rings, only longer and blacker, but painted by pain, the same thing which had helped to carve the rings under her late friend's eyes.

_Oh geez. _

"All right, all right, let's just…g-get you into the bathroom, clean you up."

Jaime did not hesitate to open the bathroom door for the girls, nor to pull out a box of Kleenex and turn on the faucet. Once Erin herded the younger girl inside, an arm looped around her shoulders, she proceeded to moisten a few sheets of Kleenex under the faucet and dab the ruined make-up away, to the best of her ability. As she did this, she held Acey's face by the chin and softly inquired, "Wh-what happened, Ace? What did Roger want?"

_I must have some kind of pain showing in my eyes, because she looks worried. Either that, or Jaime blew things completely out of proportion. I wonder if this is what it feels like to have an older sister. L sometimes tipped my head up the same way Erin is doing now._

Acey worked up a watery smile in order to reassure Erin before she hugged her, nuzzling her neck with her cheek. "Oh, he just wanted to tell me I received my payment for the Dragonfly case, which means we can go shopping in Italy." Pulling away, she gazed up at her. Fresh tears proceeded to well in her eyes when she thought of what Roger said to her.

"And as for what Roger said…I'm sorry but, I'd like to keep his words to myself, close to my heart for a while. I hope that's okay." she grinned again. "I'm sorry if Jaime made you worry. He just doesn't like it when I cry."

"I don't, either," sighed Erin in reply, making a halfhearted aim for the wastebasket before throwing the marred Kleenex at it. The ball bounced off the rim before landing on the linoleum by the sink without a sound. Deciding to leave it go for the moment—the Kleenex, not the cause for Acey's tears—she rubbed Acey's back in an attempt to soothe her, and perhaps coax a more explanatory answer out of her.

"As much as I respect the whole 'keep it to your heart' thing, he told me that you wanted to see me. And given the mess you're in, I don't think he was that far off. We're not gonna hide things from each other anymore, remember?"

…

Experience and intuition began to form a guess in her head. If Acey cried this intensely, perhaps what Roger had told her had had something to do with one of her friends here at Wammy's? Living or dead.

"Did it have anything to do with L?"

Acey smiled somewhat. "Yes, it does. And speaking of not keeping things from each other…"

She tilted her head up, bringing her lips close to Erin's ear. "Can I tell you something? Something that can never be spoken above a whisper inside or outside these walls?"

Erin's throat tightened. "Shoot."

Wicked hopped off of Acey's pillow, and trotted over to her bedroom door, tilting his ear towards it. Jaime stood guard with him outside; together, they would make sure that no one was listening. He flicked his tail. He was quite sure that L approved of her doing this.

Aside from his heirs, Acey had been his pride, after all. Wicked sincerely hoped she knew that.

Acey took Erin's good hand, and cupped it both of her hers. "I can't even remember the last time this name was spoken out loud."

…

"Though I am, and always will remain Acey of Spades…I do believe that I was once referred to as Akatsuki Marseille."


	15. 05: 1

**_Disclaimer!_ All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; with the exception of Erin Blogger (to WhiteLadyDragon) and Acey and Jaime (to smearedliner). The ghost Kikuri is a reference to the character from the anime, Ken'ichi Kanemaki's _Hell__ Girl._ There's also a slight crossover and references to Yu Aida's _Gunslinger__ Girl_. **

_**05-1**_

Acey was sure that Roger was glad to see her and Erin leave. He was probably doing a fist pump of victory as he drove away from the airport. Two less children for him to handle.

Jaime bowed to the girls once they were in the back of the line to board. "I'm going on ahead to inform Lady Triela of your arrival time," he said. As always, he was hesitant to leave them unescorted, especially after his recent blunder with B, but he knew they would be fine.

"Godspeed," said Erin.

"All right." Acey grinned somewhat at the thought of her partner. She wasn't necessarily the type to work well in a group, but she clicked with Triela. Next to L, Triela was the only one she trusted with her life, quite literally, when one took the Agency's line of work into consideration. Setting Wicked's carrier on the ground, she leaned up against the wall, and briefly closed her eyes.

"Is it okay to feel a little sad that he won't be giving me orders anymore when I work with the Agency?" she asked, opening one eye to look at Erin.

Erin scratched the back of her neck. "Well…you worked together for a long time, so I wouldn't call it abnormal to miss that." She herself had known L for a much shorter time—and often unpleasant—and she still missed him. It had only started to get a little easier to cope.

"So, when we get on board, you wanna sit by the window?"

Closing her eye again, Acey yawned. "Yep, I can see everybody on the plane that way." Without bothering to elaborate, she let silence coat the air between them. Opening her eyes, she glanced at her companion, and sighed, smiling a little. "It made me so happy to know…that _he_ thought I was worth it."

"Everyone is worth something," Erin murmured, more to herself than to anyone in particular. It was simply unfortunate, how some people could go through their whole lives being treated as though they weren't. Maybe that, not money, was the root for most of the evil and suffering in the world?

Goodness knew that she had been guilty of treating certain people like that.

"I do suppose you're right," said Acey, tilting her head up to stare at the ceiling. She half-wished she had a hat of her own to shadow her eyes, because she knew she was wearing far too much emotion in them.

And she wished L could be here to chide her in that polite if condescending way of his.

After he'd found her, if she wanted to leave his sight outside of the hotel, L had always made her tuck her hair up inside a hat, claiming that its color—and the fact that she was a mafia leader's daughter—would attract too much attention. It would've been a problem if someone recognized her.

She really didn't know if that'd been more for him, or for her safety.

"Hey, can you help me do something after we board our flight?"

By that point, passengers were beginning to board, single file. Gathering Wicked's carrier and everything else, Erin said as she looked them both over, "Sure. What d'ya need?"

Acey stood on her tiptoes, straining to get her carry-on bag on the shelf next to her seat near the end of the aisle. The more private section. She half-expected L to gently pluck her bag from her hand, and put it there himself, and smiled gently at Erin over her shoulder as the older girl did exactly this at the first sign of distress. After arranging her own luggage upon the shelf beside hers and waiting for Acey to claim the window seat, Erin proceeded to negotiate a way to keep Wicked comfortable for the ride while keeping his carrier on the floor between her feet.

_You are way too kind to me, Erin. It's a good thing you'll be home when I go out on a mission with Triela. I don't want you to see that side of me. Someone like you isn't suited for that environment._

_I don't think you have it in you to hurt anyone, much less kill them. Even up against someone like B, you showed way too much mercy._

Acey recovered something from the back pocket of her jeans before she sat down: a sealed envelope, unsigned. "Well, you see, he uh, left me this letter. I haven't read it yet. I…wanted you to read it with me. If I'd read it alone, I know I would've…"

She trailed off. The envelope crumbled slightly in her hand as she gripped it a little tighter. The action clearly reflected what she hadn't said. She would've broke down if she'd read it alone.

Erin, in the meantime, could feel her own throat tighten. Neither dared to speak his name aloud in public, for fear that someone would hear, but something about the prospect of L leaving a document, words from beyond the grave, made her feel as though turbulence rocked the entire plane to its bolts. And they hadn't even taken off, yet.

She nodded in total understanding as she slid into the middle seat and buckled her seat belt. So _this_ was what had made Acey cry, huh?

Her feet pressing around the sides of Wicked's carrier, her hands trembled with the younger girl's as they opened the envelope together with the utmost care, neither wanting so much as a tear in the envelope, much less on the letter containing his final message.

_Typed_, they both noted. Which made sense when it came to L. One's penmanship provided insight into one's identity, whether the reader was a friend or an enemy. If anyone could even read his handwriting in the first place, that is.

Acey fought to urge to bring the letter up to her nose to see if it smelt like sugar. "He _always_ had horrendous handwriting," she commented quietly, her eyes beginning to scan the contents of the letter.

Erin didn't answer. She didn't need to, for she had seen it herself.

Acey then wondered if he'd left Mello, Matt, or Near a letter. Or were his final words meant only for her? No, it seemed more likely for him to leave them each a separate letter, with words meant only for the intended. This didn't take away the value of these words, however. These were for her, and for the moment, that was what mattered.

**Acey of Spades,**

**I hope this finds you well. If you are reading this, then I'm no longer a part of this world. I know that you will have already begun to grieve, if you aren't already in the midst, but I must ask you to please not mourn my death for more than is necessary. You still have a long time left ahead of you, and I want you to make the most of it. **

**I've selfishly sacrificed lives for the sake of an investigation. However, you gave me the chance to do something I never thought I could do: save a life, an extraordinary life with my own hands. I would be sorely disappointed if my efforts would end up going to waste because of a mistake that I made.**

Acey laughed softly, "Wow, extraordinary, huh? I've been called a lot of things, but never that." The small smile that accompanied it was short lived; it ran away from her face when she read the next words.

**I still don't know if you've ever forgiven me for saving your life. I never did forget how angry you were for my having done so.**

Erin's eyes stung a little. You weren't supposed to hate the deceased. You were supposed to have reconciled with them before they passed on. A painful mistake that she herself had no intention of repeating.

_I have forgiven you. Or at least, I am. We are. My only regret left is that we'll never be able to go back and let you know that. _

**As much as I dislike clichés, I do want to place confidence in the healing power of time. I didn't expect you to forgive me so quickly; I didn't expect you to begin to until long after I'd died. But I believe that with enough time, your wounds will heal. **

**With that, I've designated to you a fraction of my legacy, to use as you see fit. I trust that Roger will have delivered it to you. **

Acey face-palmed. "He's a fool if he thought I still bear a grudge against him over that. While it's true that I was angry at him for a long time, I told him I was fine with it a long time ago."

_I can't even believe he still worried about that. I wish he would've talked with me about it before he died, so I could've told him._

Out of the corner of her eye, she snuck a glance at Erin. Her end of the letter trembled in her hand, and not simply because of the motion of the plane taking off.

_Maybe it was selfish to ask her to read this with me. I can't help but think that old pain is resurfacing. I'm grateful that she's letting me lean on her like this, but I don't want her to do it at her own expense._

Erin wiped at the corner of her eye. "A part of the legacy, huh? How many zeroes is he talking, I wonder?" The man had somehow scraped up the finances to build a crazy _skyscraper_ for the Kira case. If she had to make a guess, he must've left Acey at least nine zeroes.

All of the zeroes in the world, however, were worthless compared to what he had left her.

Acey swallowed back a laugh before shooting Erin a small smile. "It was a staggering amount, trust me. But, I'd rather have him over money."

Erin seconded that notion. She reached between the seats with her free hand to entangle her fingers in the younger girl's. "Don't blow it all in one spot, kiddo," she whispered, in an attempt to crack a joke. "I don't think he'd like that."

Acey squeezed Erin's, nodding. It was getting harder and harder to hold herself together. The wobbly smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth proved this more than adequately enough. "Oh, I won't. I don't even know what I'm going to do with all that money," she replied as she returned her attention back to the letter.

**However, I do not suppose I have a right to ask _your_ forgiveness for some of the things I've made you do. You've spilled blood for me. You could refer to me as a coward in this instance. Truthfully, I just didn't want their blood staining _my_ hands.**

L had a lot more baggage than Erin could ever guess. That anyone could guess. When she had called him out on exposing Kira for the sake of winning their game as opposed to for justice's sake, he hadn't denied it. Actually, his reaction could be considered as a sort of confirmation. A confession, even. Maybe he'd spent the better part of life bearing a profound sense of guilt for what he'd become that had molded that pronounced hunch out of his back?

The world was not in black in white. Sometimes Erin would have lapses and forget, but she would always be reminded whenever she did. This was one of those reminders.

Clutching the letter tightly, the words began to blur in Acey's eyes. No matter how hard she squeezed Erin's hand, it didn't stop the tears that dotted the paper, blotting the text. "I was more than happy to do it for him," she sobbed softly. "He had to know I would've done anything for him. He had to know how much I loved him, right?"

This sentiment sounded similar to that of another girl Erin used to know, almost frighteningly so. She too had had a man in her life whom she felt indebted to, to the point of murderous madness, though in a different sense than that of the little girl sitting next to her today, grieving.

Leaning over, she buried her face in Erin's shoulder. "Just give me a minute, please." Sniffing, she cried quietly into it, soaking the fabric of her blouse.

Erin maintained her grip on Acey's tiny hand as she rested her cheek against the top of her head.

_Take __your__ time.__ We__'__re__ gonna__ be __up__ here __in__ the __air__ for__ a__while._

This letter was written for Acey. She knew this. And yet, Erin simply couldn't shake the nagging feeling that some of these words were for her eyes, as well.

Upon hearing his mistress sobbing, Wicked meowed softly in concern. It was what felt like an eternity for them both before Acey spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "While it ever go away?" She didn't need to elaborate on what "it" was.

"I dunno, Ace. I'm not sure if it's even right to look at it, that way. Maybe it won't be so much _it_ that changes, as it is _us_." Loss was permanent. It was those left behind who changed as they adjusted to the absence, adapted to the pain, alleviated the regret through making the most of one's time for the sake of the ones who could not, and reaching out to the remaining ones they cherished so much. The ones who needed a hand.

Acey gave no follow-up. She hadn't thought of emotional pain that way before. It shattered the universal notion that time healed the heart. Tears continued to fall; her sobbing, however, ceased. Her eyes shifted to her reflection in the plane window, narrowing into a glare after a few moments, one of disgust.

_I__ used__ to__ be__ virtually __unshakeable.__ I__ used__ to __think __I __couldn__'__t __go __through__ anything__ worse__ than__ what __I__ went __through __in __my__ childhood.__ But __this__…__this __is __the_ worst _pain __I__'__ve __ever __felt.__ I_ never_ needed __someone__ to __hold__ me__ together __then, __so __why __do__ I__ need __someone __to__ now?_

_What changed? I can hardly look at myself right now._

Grief was such a funny thing, and not in the "ha-ha" sort of way. Some days someone in mourning felt like she could take on the world again, a champion for the one she'd lost. And other days, she felt as though the world was dragging her under, with no way to crawl back out. Of the two of them, Acey seemed to have more days of the latter sort, probably because she'd known L far longer than Erin did, was closer to him, held onto him like an anchor.

She couldn't help but notice that the letter had been left unsigned. L hadn't given his final letter a proper closing. Perhaps this was because he'd deemed it unnecessary. Acey would've instinctively known who these words were from.

Erin wasn't sure what to say once Acey had started grimacing at her reflection. Easing Acey's end of the letter out of her hand, she carefully folded it into squares in her lap. A little rest couldn't hurt either of them. She placed the letter into Acey's lap—it was hers, after all—before waving for the attention of the stewardess about to travel up the aisle.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she asked mildly, "can we get two cups of ginger ale on the rocks, please? And a pillow?"

The stewardess nodded, her silvery bun bobbing behind her. "Absolutely, just let me make sure that no one else needs anything first, and I'll be right back."

"Roger-dodger."

Acey turned, and blinked several times at Erin before she said, "What's up? Are you not feeling well?" The disgusted look caved to concern. Protectively pressing her arm over the letter in her lap so it didn't fall to the floor, she placed her hand against Erin's forehead.

"Er, well, you looked a little green, there, and tired. Ginger ale helps nausea, usually. Unless you're like, allergic or something. And chewing on ice cubes is a good stress-reliever, but that's just me being weird."

…

"You're not allergic to ginger ale, are you?"

"No, I'm not. Come to think of it," said Acey, nibbling on her thumbnail in a way that was reminiscent to L's, "the only thing I'm allergic to is almonds." She turned around in her seat to look in the direction of where the flight attendant had gone. "Do you think they have ice cream?"

"Er, I'm not sure. I can ask when she comes back."

When she did indeed returned, Erin raised her hand just before she disappeared into the cabin. "Pardon us, ma'am, but is it okay if we don't get ice for our drinks? W-we'd still like some ale, but could you throw in a little ice cream, too? If you've got any?"

The stewardess passed them a slightly weird look before answering, "I think we may have something, but I'm afraid we've only ice cream sandwiches. Will that do?"

Erin cracked a grin. "Aw yeah, that'd be swell! We'd like two of those over here, thanks. Oh, and you have any, two spoons."

Since they were seated by the cabin door, the girls were the first to be served when the stewardess emerged with her cart. Setting the trays up for them both, Erin tucked the pillow behind Acey's head before pouring the hissing can of soda into two plastic cups. She placed Acey's sandwich, spoon, and soda on her tray, then proceeded to, by a random urge to combine the two sweets, unwrap, dissect her sandwich for the ice cream filling. She scooped it all into her drink, licking her lips. "You know, I've had many floats in my day, but I don't think I've ever had one with ginger ale. Let's see if it's any good."

She took a sip, relishing the sizzle of fizz in her ears and throat, together with the smooth, cold, creamy vanilla. It was an…odd combination. Ale didn't complement vanilla ice cream quite like root beer did.

Acey watched Erin with a look of somewhat childlike wonder on her face. She'd never seen anything like that before. Blinking several times to size up Erin's reaction, she hesitantly pointed at the glass containing the strange, fizzing concoction. "How is it?"

The older girl swallowed. "Not as good as ice cream with root beer," she answered with several smacks of her lips, "but it's sweet enough. Try it for yourself, if you dare."

Around that point, the pilot announced that they were about to experience a bout of turbulence, thereby making it mandatory for all passengers to return to their seats and buckle their seat belts. This wasn't a problem for Acey or Erin, who tightened her grip on Wicked's carrier so as to prevent too much discomfort, but that didn't keep their drinks from sloshing all over when the aircraft gave in to a series of rattling jolts. Before Erin knew it, a sizable, cold wet spot appeared on the front of her blouse.

"Aw, damn it," she muttered, clutching her drink as she vigorously pressed at the stain with her napkin. "I never was a fan of turbulence," she admitted without looking up. "First time I went on a plane and we hit a pocket, I thought the plane was gonna crash. First time I saw my mom look so embarrassed…though definitely not the last."

She had to stop to wonder how people like L handled airplanes. Maybe he didn't even use public transport and had his own jet, instead?

Looking down at the front of her own shirt, Acey stuck her tongue out. Sighing, she picked off the ice chips that had sloshed down her shirt. "I was never a big fan of heights, to begin with," she replied, tossing the ice chips back into the glass. "At least my ice cream and the letter came out unscathed," she continued, lowering the arm that'd held the two said items protectively over her head during the commotion.

"Good thing I wore black today," she murmured, dabbing a napkin over the wet patch on her tank top. A visible shudder suddenly rippled through her. "Ugh, this reminds me of the first time I flew with him."

"You don't say. Did you think the plane was gonna crash, too?"

Placing the napkin onto the table tray, Acey nodded and sat back. Placing the letter in her lap, she put her feet up on the seat and pulled her knees close to her chest, pressing the letter against it. A way of holding L close to her heart. It gave her the degree of comfort she needed.

"Yeah, I did. Even though I've flown on a plane so many times, I never quite get used to it. There was this huge staircase at my mother's house. She pushed me down it one day, probably thinking it would kill me. I've been scared of heights ever since. The way the plane quivers, loses some altitude during a pocket of turbulence, reminds me of the sensation of falling down those stairs."

The ice cream and soda began to churn and curdle in Erin's stomach as she gulped down that too-tight feeling building up in her chest. Her own mother had always been on top of things—including a financial company as corporate executive officer, before retiring—but she'd always been more of the type to grab someone by the wrist if they were falling (though not without chewing their ear off some), rather than…

Erin didn't know what to say. Maybe she didn't need to actually say anything? All she had to offer was her company and assurance. She dared to reach over and brush a tuff of Acey's blond hair back behind her ear, seeing as her hands were a bit occupied with keeping her curled up.

It was then that Acey caught her hand, lacing her fingers through her it, and gave it a gentle squeeze. The medium could feel the silent comfort her companion was offering her. She closed her eyes for a moment, soaking the warmth into her heart. She didn't let go of Erin's hand when she opened her eyes, listening to the pilot's announcement that they would be landing in Italy in the next hour or so.

She decided that they would finish reading L's letter once they got settled into Elsa de Sica's old room.

…

_Shoot,__ English __is__ my __mother-tongue,__ my__ Japanese __is __decent,__ and__ I__ can__'__t__ even __remember__ how __to __say__ '__hello__' __in __Italian. __Okay __don__'__t __panic__—__oh,__ but__ we__'__re__ getting __so__ close __to__ meeting __these __guys!__ You __wanna __make __a__ good __impression__ on __them, __don__'__t __you? __Let__'__s__ see__…_"Bonjour?" _No,__ that__'__s __French._ "Hòla" _is __Spanish__…__come __on,__ Erin,__ think! _Linguini, alfredo, mozzarella_...that__'__s __all__ Italian __chow.__ Wait__ a__ minute. _"Ciao!" _That__'__s __gotta __be __it!_

_Wait.__ Isn__'__t __that__ what __they__ say __to __say __goodbye? __Maybe __it__'__s __for__ both,__ like_ "Aloha" _in__ Hawaiian?__ Is __that __the__ formal__ or __informal __way?__ I__ should __go__ with__ formal__…__what__'__s__ the__ formal__ phrase, __then?__ Shit shit shit._

_How d'ya say "shit" in Italian? _

Erin wasn't sure about how Near actually took it when she had turned down his offer—provided he had any emotional reaction at all—but it was moments like these that reassured her that saying no had been for the best for everyone. Meeting Near for the first time had been nerve-wracking. Seeing Wammy's House to begin with had been nerve-wracking. Now she was about to meet a group of assassins who were probably about as crazy as L and the rest of his crew. Or at least, that was what she understood.

Erin didn't know very many Italians personally; she'd heard about their fiery and family-oriented temperaments. The guys behind opera, pasta, and mafias.

…

Who was to say that these guys were actually Italian, though? Acey wasn't, not that she knew. Her name hadn't sounded Italian to her. Maybe they just used Italy as their location for their headquarters, for reasons that Erin couldn't fathom at the moment?

Maybe she should let Acey do most of the talking? These were her people, L's people. She was just an awestruck stranger who had been deemed trustworthy enough to see what they were about.

…

She wondered if Acey had any ghost friends here, too?

In the lobby, Acey turned to Erin, reached up, and set her small hand on top of her head, or rather, on top of her hat as if to stop her thoughts from racing so fast. Cocking her head, she peered up at the taller girl with a reassuring smile. "Hey. You are going to be just fine, 'kay?"

"Huh, what? Who, me? I didn't say anything." Was this girl reading her mind?

_Pfft. _The girl was a detective who'd learned from the best. It wouldn't be a big stretch.

Maybe she was right, though? If she could stand up to hot-shot detectives, crazy serial killers and ghosts, surely she could hold her with agents. Speaking of which…

"So, uhm, how will we know we've met our guys? Will Jaime be with them? I kinda miss him…"

Acey giggled, the grin never dropping from her face. "Jaime would be so happy to hear that. I've never seen him in love with anyone before." She looked thoughtful for a moment before she passed Wicked's carrier to Erin so she could hoist her carry-on bag higher up on her shoulder.

"We'll be meeting my partner, Triela, and her handler Hillshire, at Gate Three."

Triela and Hillshire…those names didn't sound too Italian to Erin. Maybe it was an international group who just happened to be situated in Italy? She swallowed, willing herself not to swing her arm around and get Wicked hurt in the process.

"Right, Gate Three. Keeping my eyes peeled…"

Even though she had no idea what these people looked like or how they spotted each other in public. Maybe they'd be able to spot them through Jaime's presence? She stopped to adjust her hat and pull the wrinkles out of her blouse by the hem. Preening herself just minutes before meeting people had developed into a habit of hers, partly out of anxiety, partly because it benefited everyone to look her best.

Erin blinked several times as soon as Gate Three approached them. Jaime would have to be in this crowd, somewhere. Would his transparency make him hard to spot?

Jaime gave several people an unexpected chill as he walked through them towards the girls. Both of his mistresses looked beautiful today, to him. Without warning, Jaime's voice sounded right next to Erin's ear, accompanied with a smirk. "So, you missed me, huh? You look lovely today, m'lady," he complimented, following up by placing chilly lips against her hand, and tucking a rose within it.

"Ah, Jay! Where'd you come from?" she whispered. Given the setting, she had to take care not to raise her voice or otherwise draw attention to the group. Upon replaying her words in her head, Erin cleared her throat and smiled. "I mean, Jay, good to see you again. Thanks for the rose, by the way," she added with a blush. Getting flowers from a guy was undeniably nice, in a corny sort of way. Even if this guy happened to be a ghost over five hundred years old.

"Lady Triela awaits you."

"Lady Triela? That's…that's great! We're waiting for her, too. Is she around? By the way, Jay, how _do_ you travel from one place to another so quickly?"

Jaime could tell she was pleased with the rose. He thought she looked cute when she blushed. "Yes, she's waiting at the gate with Hillshire," he replied, addressing both the girls. He glanced at Erin, and shrugged. "Let's just say we ghosts don't have restrictions as humans do when it comes to travel. We have the power to move from place to place in the blink of an eye. Very useful, to say the least."

Acey nodded, snickering quietly at the nickname Erin had given him. She sure had warmed up to Jaime lately. "I believe Triela said she had a few things for me."

Jaime nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Your sniper rifle has been repaired, and she's acquired extra ammunition for your SIG-Sauer pistol."

Something about this talk about weapons tightened Erin's throat. A preview into what this group was about, perhaps? How bad could they be? "Ah, okay, enough chit-chat! Where's old Triela and Hillshire? I'm dy—um, I mean, I'm really excited to meet them." She stopped to take a few breaths, to get her new-acquaintance jitters settled.

Acey was about to take Erin's hand in reassurance when the group heard a delighted laugh echo throughout the airport. A tall girl with long blonde hair that seemed to rival Near's as well as Acey's darted towards them, followed by a handsome if stern-looking man with short, shaggy black hair. The girl dropped the two instrument cases on the ground before she threw her arms around Acey, lifting her several inches off the ground in a tight hug.

"I was so excited when Jaime told me you were coming earlier than you said!" Triela exclaimed, breaking the embrace to look over at Erin. "So, this is the famous Erin Blogger Jaime has been telling me _so_ much about."

Jaime's grin was cocky; Erin's, more sheepish. "Huh? Who, me? Oh, well, I-I wouldn't call me famous. I am pretty well-known in my neighborhood, though."

She extended her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Triela, Acey's partner at the Social Welfare Agency. And the man behind me is Hillshire."

It had been Erin's understanding that Italians liked to greet each other with kisses on the cheek (admittedly, she's acquired this information from mafia movies). These two didn't seem or sound Italian to her, though, and the last thing she'd wanted to do was overstep any boundaries. Besides, Triela was obviously expecting a handshake. So she reached out in reply with her right hand—her good shaker—to grab the girl's left in a firm, hearty one. As she reached for Hillshire's, she noted the cases.

"So, you play instruments, huh? I dabble in music myself. I play a mean air guitar. Best part, I don't even have to keep it in a case."

Triela laughed a little and scratched the back of her head, wearing a bemused expression that read, _How __am __I __going __to__ explain __this?_ Acey tipped her head down, putting her lips close to Erin's ear. She didn't want to explain about the instrument cases, not wanting to risk sending the whole airport into a panic, even with their government certification to carry them at all times.

"Actually, there aren't any instruments in those. Not musical ones, at least," she whispered. "We carry our weapons in them as a means of camouflaging them."

…

"Oh. Well…music is power, too, isn't it? So they say."

With the topic of music having fallen flat, Erin cleared her throat, deciding to switch to a more comfortable subject. "So, what's on the agenda, gang?"

Hillshire, who'd given Erin a curt nod as opposed to shaking her hand, said, "We'll go back to the Agency, and get you and Acey settled in your room. And after that, I would like Acey to run target practice with Triela." He glanced at Erin. "You can stay up in the crow's nest and watch if you like. We'll give you a pair of headphones; it can get very loud."

The way he said that, Erin might have assumed that he didn't think she would know that target practice could get noisy, if she didn't know better.

Why would such young girls need to know how to shoot, anyway?

"Uhm…all right, then. Let's make like eggs and scramble."

…

It was around eleven that night when Triela rapped on the door. She poked her head in, spying Erin sitting in a chair looking out the window. "Is she asleep?" she inquired, motioning to Acey, who lay on the bottom bunk.

Erin jerked in attention. "Ah, Triela. Hey," she whispered, glancing towards the girl curled up under the covers with her cat lazing at the foot of the bed. Seeing him roll around on his back in stretches made her think briefly about Lawliet, which made her smile.

"Like a rock, from the looks of it." Erin stood up. Tiptoeing past her bunkmate, she herded Triela out into the hallway before closing the door behind her, careful not to let the hinges creak or the door to slam.

"What's up? You wanted to talk?"

Erin seemed quite considerate of Acey, making sure the door closed quietly. A promising sign. At least at face value. Sighing, Triela motioned for Erin to follow her down the hall. "Actually yes, I want to talk with you. You don't mind, do you?"

Her heart fluttered in anticipation. What did she want? Did she want to ask her a few questions to see if she was good? That seemed fairly likely. "Nope. Go ahead, shoo—"

…

"I mean, go ahead."

Triela wasn't going to lie. She was wary. As her partner, she and Acey carried each other's lives in their hands in the line of duty. L's death had hit Acey so hard, and Triela needed to find out if Erin was going to make things better for her, or worse.

"It's about Ace, ain't it?" Erin blurted, an involuntary reflex against the dim silence looming up their backs. She had always loved to see the city at night, and Italy was no exception. Its beauty was attributed, as she had realized, by the array of lights, shining like crystallizations of people's hopes and dreams, no matter how dark the world around them got.

Did L ever watch the city overnight, for those similar reasons?

Rubbing the back of her neck, Triela nodded, holding back a frown. Only people extremely familiar with Acey called her Ace. "Yes, it is. I don't mean to be rude, but what exactly are your intentions? You haven't stuck by her side just to get a good story to further your career, have you?"

She doubted her answer would be yes, but if it was…there would be unfavorable consequences up ahead.

Ah. Erin should've seen this coming from a mile away. "No, ma'am. If I were just looking for a story, I'd have published it a long time ago. I'd have one or two bestsellers, interviews flooding the Internet, my face on every tabloid across the world, and a trophy cabinet stuffed to the gills with prizes and awards, by now. Currently, when we don't have our coffee, my own colleagues forget my name, sometimes. Heh-heh."

Anger began to fester in Triela. Was this girl mocking her?

Was making a joke out of this in bad taste? She cleared her throat. "Seriously, though, I did meet her for an interview regarding the Dragonfly case, some days ago. But one thing led to another, and…now here I am. You can call the Dragonfly case old news, considering what I put down for it."

After Erin had made fun of herself, Triela let down her guard just a little bit. She pursed her lips before she spoke, looking away from Erin. "Don't sell yourself short; I read it." She paused for a moment, her eyes, which had been defensive and slightly cold up to this point, softening. "Thank you, for keeping Acey's power under wraps." Her voice teased at a whisper. "_He_ would've wanted it that way."

Was Triela referring to the same "he" Erin was thinking of? If she and Acey were as close as they'd appeared, then most likely, yes.

Her own voice dropped in kind. "It's the least I can do. For an old friend of mine."

Triela's eyes softened even more upon Erin's words. From Erin's tone of voice, she sensed that she'd cared for L just as much as Acey did, which granted her further relief.

She stopped walking, and leaned against the wall. "She's trying so hard, like she's still trying to please him all these years later," she replied softly.

Though she had asked about this before, Erin couldn't stop her instincts. It never hurt anyone to get the story from all sides. "What was he like with her, Triela? Did he push her a lot?" Her and the other kids at Wammy's?

Triela nodded. "Yes. Yes, he did. Some people, like Roger, didn't agree with how much he pushed her." She paused, smiling somewhat. "But, he knew he could push her because he knew what Acey was capable of. And I'm sure you could see just by observing her during our target practice drills earlier that she's capable of a lot."

Her smile widened into something gentle that suited her face. "He did care for her. He was never too verbal about it, but you could see it in his eyes, like when he'd see her cry in her sleep."

Erin took advantage of the silence and tried to imagine the pair in some king-sized bed in the middle of the night, curled around each other like spoons in a kitchen drawer. L holding Acey's tiny hand as her weeping quelled to quiet hiccups, not saying a word. Giving her just his presence, all he had to offer.

"I wonder if he was like that with all the girls in his life?" she asked aloud, though not intentionally.

Triela shrugged. "I've only ever seen him with Acey. I remember how much it ruffled her feathers when he put his faith in this FBI agent, Naomi Misora. She would sulk about and pout like a child, saying how she could've done a faster, cleaner, better job than Misora ever could. I believe her favorite nickname for her was 'nitwit.'"

Naomi Misora? L had never mentioned anything about a woman by that name, not in Erin's earshot. Then again, she shouldn't have expected him to. He'd kept almost every detail on his past under wraps when it came to her and the rest of the task force, even Light, who had been literally chained to his side for months on end. And whatever details he did give had been so maddeningly vague that they almost weren't even worth noting.

Whoever she was, Misora must've been a heck of a lady, if someone like L would want to work with her that closely. Almost like with Wedy.

Poor Acey must've been as green as a string bean.

Triela motioned for her to follow her down the hall again. "The only time she ever left his side voluntarily was when he worked with Misora. She hid out here, refusing to speak to him until their business had been concluded." She laughed, "When she went out on missions with me and Hillshire, I swear every bullet Acey shot was meant to be aimed at her."

Triela's face softened again. "Acey thought he was losing his faith in her, and…I swear I could sense that it genuinely upset him that she wouldn't speak to him."

Erin wondered how he'd deal with that. Would he have come in to annoy her, goad her in that intrusive way of his, just to make her speak and ward off the loneliness he never once mentioned but hung heavy over him just the same, as it hung over Acey and all the others at the House?

She swallowed lightly. "It must be…pretty tough, not having a lot of friends and family to lean on. Those two were like, crutches for each other, in a way, weren't they?"

Even at their worst.

Triela nodded somewhat solemnly, thinking Erin had chosen an interesting choice of words. "Yes, she definitely leaned on him. And he, her, in that weird way of his. He was the first person to accept Acey for who she was, the first person who saw worth in her. I've never seen Acey love someone as fiercely as she loved him.

"I wish you could've seen them together, the way he quietly watched over her. Though it wasn't outwardly evident, I could tell that Acey was his pride."

"From what I've heard, I'll bet they were a pair." Erin stopped to stretch out her arms behind her. Triela probably wouldn't have known much about his relationship to the other kids, so she decided to discard that question for the time being.

Triela's next words died on her lips when she heard a familiar voice echoed farther down the corridor. She grinned when she saw Jaime and Wicked strolling towards them—on separate ends of the hallway, true to Wicked's fashion.

"Lady Acey giving me an order to check in on the rest of the girls is one thing, but _you_ just want to see the girls. I swear you're an old man trapped in a cat's body," accused Jaime. Wicked continued to ignore him, only dignifying his words with a single flick of his tail, a clear indicator of his lack of shame.

Upon seeing the girls, Triela laughed as Wicked trotted enthusiastically over to them. Crouching down, she scratched the cat behind his ears, warranting a loud, long purr. "Come on, Acey must be up," she said.

"Indeed she is, ladies," Jaime confirmed, bowing as they passed him.

Erin nodded in agreement. "It's getting awfully late besides," she yawned. It felt faintly strange, to feel sleepy in spite of the incredible situation she had found herself in, but sleep was far too good to reject.

Back in their room, Acey was soaked up to her elbows in gun oil. Her SIG Sauer pistol lay in pieces on the table. Triela knew Acey could probably put it back together with her eyes closed, just as all the girls there could. Acey only cleaned her gun as thoroughly as she was doing now when she had something heavy weighing on her mind. Something to do with the folded piece of paper sitting on the corner of the table.

"Huh? That's weird. Could've sworn you were sawing logs a while ago. Got a case of insomnia, kid? Do you want some milk or…oh, wait. You don't like milk. Tea, then?"

Grinning tiredly, Acey assessed what was going on. Raising an eyebrow at Triela, she dried her hands, shooting Erin the type of smile that she hoped wouldn't make her feel suspicious. "It's all right, I don't need tea. Sometimes I work on my gun when I can't sleep," she said.

Erin blinked. "Well, at least it's not smoking. All the same, I'm gonna go whip us up some tea. Chamomile…that should put some weight on the eyelids, right? Be right back! Hey Jaime, d'you know where we keep the tea around here?"

With Erin gone with the phantom and cat, Acey reached up behind Triela's jacket, retrieving her own gun's sibling.

"You were planning to kill her if you sensed anything wrong about her, weren't you?"

...

Without guilt, Triela nodded.

Acey's own eyes remained devoid of guilt or disapproval, despite the relationship she and Erin shared. Nothing personal towards her, just the way they'd been trained. The way things worked here.

A cool wave of relief flushed through her instead. It hadn't had to come to that. For the moment, life was good. Not perfectly good, but close enough.


End file.
